James Potter and the Year of Chasing
by Ashfae
Summary: James Potter has just started his sixth year at Hogwarts. He's looking forward to exploring the school, playing Quidditch, and causing as much trouble as humanly (or inhumanly) possible. But Lily Evans might be more trouble than he's bargained for...
1. Chapter One

"Is it clear?" 

There was a small, affirmative sounding squeak. 

"It's clear. Move!" 

"I'll move as soon as you get off my foot!" 

"Shh!" 

There was a clamour of shuffling feet, interrupted by small curses and yelps of pain. These sounds weren't particularly strange in their own right, but they were made unusual by the fact that the corridor was (to all appearances) completely empty aside from a small rat. The rat was perhaps even more unusual than the three disembodied voices; it was standing on its hind legs, looking one way and the other down the corridor, as though it were a watchdog. It let out a sudden shrill squeak. 

"Cripes, someone's coming. Which suit of armor is it?" 

"Third from the left! _Move!_" 

"'Rabbit's Foot!'" 

This last exclamation seemed to be a password, for as soon as it was uttered a suit of armor creakily swung aside to reveal an hidden passage. The muffled noises disappeared into the darkness, followed by the rat, and the suit of armor moved back into place. By the time Professor Deuteronomy reached it, there was no sign anyone had been in the area at all. 

In the passageway, the noises continued. In fact, they grew even stranger. There was a short hiss of breath, followed by a quiet bark; it sounded like the canine equivalent of a laugh. 

"Stuff it, Padfoot, you know there isn't space for me to transform in here as well. Besides, it'll be easier to sneak past Hagrid's in the cloak, even with two of us under it." 

"Not to mention that if Hagrid found a stag lurking outside his hut, he'd probably shoot you with that crossbow and feed you to something nasty for dinner." 

"No need to remind me, Moony. Here, we're almost through." 

Moonlight glinted on tall weeds, which conveniently covered the passage's exit at the bottom of a large tree trunk. Moonlight also glinted on the sleek black fur of a large dog. The dog lifted its muzzle, tasting the wind, then trotted away. It was followed by the rat, which was followed by two remaining disembodied voices. There was a quiet shuffling as the four passed by the ramshackle hut in the middle of the field, then skirted the edge of the Forbidden Forest. At the point where the forest met the lake there was a small set of rocky hills. The dog bounded expertly from hill to hill, then disappeared. Had there been any onlookers, they would have sworn the dog had Apparated, little guessing that there was an opening concealed by the rocks. The entrance itself wasn't more than a small hole, but it led to a cave under the hill. The dog ran in a few quick circles around the cave, then settled itself near one of the back walls. By the time the rat and disembodied voices had caught up, the dog had disappeared, replaced by a lanky, brown-haired boy who lounged against the wall. He held up a wand, the end of which was glowing brightly. 

The rat shimmered and shifted, only to be replaced by a short blond boy, who scowled. "You might have waited before lighting that, Sirius. You near blinded me." 

"Stop whinging, Wormtail. Are we all here?" 

"More or less." Fabric swirled through the air, and the two disembodied voices were suddenly no longer disembodied. A boy with light-brown hair flung himself on a rock, sweating. "It's hard to breathe under that thing. Can't you take time off from transfiguration to invent a better invisibility cloak, James?" 

"Maybe," the last boy answered. He was tall and black-haired, and held the cloak in one hand and a rucksack in the other. "Would I have to learn how to knit?" 

"There's an idea," Sirius smirked. "James Potter knitting. That'll drive the girls wild for sure." 

"That cloak's not knitted, you gits, it's woven," Peter said contemptuously. 

"Do I look like a dressmaker? Come on, we've got bigger fish to fry. I hereby call this meeting of the Midnight Marauders to order." 

"What've we got from the kitchens tonight?" James was unloading a large sack of goodies; Peter grabbed the edge, peering inside. "Are those Peppermint Toads? Let me have one, James!" 

"Shove off, Peter, I already bagsed them. Hey, let go!" 

A good-hearted scuffle followed; while James and Peter were thus occupied, Remus deftly reached out and grabbed the peppermints, tossing one into his mouth. Sirius groaned. "Hopeless, you lot are. Looks like I'll have to come up with our next prank on my own." 

"Don't even think it," James said, flashing a grin at Sirius while rubbing Peter's head with a fist. "I've got a real beauty this time. But I'm not saying anything until I get a Toad." 

"I'll turn you into a toad, you--" 

Remus lobbed peppermints at each of them. "Come on, lads. We don't want to be here all night." 

"Says you," Peter grunted, wrenching himself apart from his antagonist. "This feels like the first free time I've had in weeks. I can't remember ever having had so much homework. Who replaced our teachers with sadistic maniacs?" 

"They always were sadistic maniacs, lout." 

"Oh, right..." 

"Remus is right." James dusted himself off and leaned against a wall. "Our teachers are indeed sadistic maniacs, and we should take advantage of their absence and get on with it. Chairman Padfoot has called the Marauders to order." 

"Exactly," Sirius answered. "What's the business at hand?" 

"How to convince Gwendolyn Delacroix to chase after me instead of Prongs," Peter quipped. 

"That's not likely," Sirius grinned. 

"Why? I might not be as popular as he is, but at least I'm smart enough to realize what a gorgeous bit Gwen is. Beats the hell out of me why he's on the run from her." 

"If you're quite finished talking about me as though I'm not sitting here," James said dryly. He was popular, it was true. He didn't have to work at it; it just happened. He'd taken advantage of this the previous year, going on lots of dates, but the thrill of popularity had worn off before long. Most girls had gotten the hint and stopped throwing themselves in his way; Gwen, however, was particularly stubborn. Gwen was the Ravenclaw Seeker, and very used to getting her way about everything both on and off the Quidditch pitch. 

"Oh, are you here, James?" Remus said with pretend surprise. "I thought you were still asleep up in the North Tower." 

"Tempting, but no." 

"You fell asleep in Divination _again?_" Peter asked, incredulous. "Why not just switch over to Arithmancy, if Trelawny's so boring?" 

"I'm allergic to numbers," James responded lazily. 

"Should've found a way to get out of the Foreseeing requirement, like me," Sirius drawled. "Then you could spend your time learning something useful." 

"Mm, good idea. Need an assistant?" 

"I could use someone to help with curses. Much better if the students see them in action, and they do tend to panic when you demonstrate on them. Want me talk to Dumbledore about it?" 

"On second thought, I'll stick to Trelawny. Worst she can do is put me to sleep. You're likely to hex my legs off for the fun of it and forget to put them back on after." James grinned impishly, and Sirius made a face. Hogwarts students were required to study at least one method of predicting the future each year; but Sirius was getting around this by agreeing to be an assistant teacher in Defense Against the Dark Arts, his best subject. Professor Avverius was still teaching only as a favor to Dumbledore, who was having difficulty finding a replacement; most wizards skilled in fighting the dark arts were busy with the recent uprising of dark wizards. Sirius had taken over the first and second year classes so that the aged professor could focus on the more difficult levels; in exchange, Sirius was exempt from the Foreseeing requirement, and was taking less electives than the rest of his year. Sirius, who had no interest in anything except fighting the dark arts, was delighted by this arrangement, and spent a great deal of time taunting his friends with their lack of similar fortune. 

Peter rolled his eyes in disgust. "Hopeless, you are. Has Trelawny predicted anyone's death yet?" 

Remus looked sheepish. "Mine, actually." 

"You?" Sirius asked, surprised. "Usually she goes after the girls; they shriek more. How're you supposed to bite it?" 

"She said a tree would fall on me in January." 

"Better avoid the Shrieking Shack then. The Whomping Willow would probably go out of its way to jump on you." 

"Trelawny's full of chuff," Peter interjected. 

"Wormtail! How can you possibly doubt the word of our most revered teacher!" James asked in mock horror. 

"Because she's an old bat." 

"Now now, Madame Trelawny is a respected member of the faculty," Remus said charitably just before breaking into a broad grin. "Even if she is an old bat." 

"I still say she's loony. Watch, I'll write up a chart for you." Peter quickly wrote out a series of numbers and diagrams on the dirt floor with his wand, then sat back to examine it. "Hmm." 

"What in store for him, Peter? Fame, fortune, a new broomstick?" 

"Eaten by a gnu," Peter said with a straight face. "She got the January bit right though." 

"What's a gnu?" Sirius asked. 

"A sort of antelope. From Africa." 

"Tragic," James murmured. "And him just sixteen..." 

"Come off it!" Remus was almost laughing too hard to speak. 

Sirius was staring at the chart, his expression half-puzzled, half-disgusted. "What's all this mean, Peter? It's just a bunch of lines and numbers. Makes even less sense than Trelawny's tea leaves." 

"At least they stay put. A bunch of soggy tea leaves can look like a cat and a horse and an elephant all at once. A six is a six no matter how you look at it." 

Sirius shook his head. "Beats me how you can stand all that math." 

"You try growing up with two accountants as your parents," Peter retorted. "It was either get good at math quick or go mad." 

"Shame you did both," James grinned. Peter lobbed a toad at him. 

"This is all well and good, gentlemen," Remus said in a mock-serious tone. "But are we plotting or not? Peter's not the only one who's had a load of homework lately; I'm done in." 

"Right!" Sirius barked. "I hereby pass control of the board over to Master Prongs. James?" 

James leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "Thank you, Chairman Padfoot. Fellow Marauders, our next mission will be one of particular danger and interest. For its execution, I will require the assistance of Doctor Wormtail. His small size and inconspicuous form will be absolutely essential." 

"Me?" Peter looked surprised. Pranks were James and Sirius' forte; Peter and Remus were more inclined to set things up while the more daring members of the quartet did the dirty work. "What's our target?" 

James grinned broadly. "The Slytherin dormitories. Hallowe'en's coming up soon. I thought it'd be a nice gesture to hang Snape's undershorts in the Great Hall, in place of one of the Slytherin banners." 

"Brilliant!" Sirius crowed. "Can we color them pink while we're at it?" 

"How am I supposed to get into his trunk while I'm a rat?" Peter wanted to know. "You know Snape; he's the sort of prat who'd fold all his clothes up perfectly straight and lock the trunk even if he's sitting next to it. Bet he throws a fit if it's moved an centimetre out of place." 

"You're one to talk," Remus pointed out. "Our first day here you were measuring every centimetre of your bunk." 

"The better to know which bits of the floor are mine to clutter, so I can curse anyone who sets foot in them. The point is, I want to know the plan before I agree to anything. Let's have it, Prongs." 

"First of all, you're not going into Snape's trunk," James corrected. "I've reserved that dubious pleasure for myself. You're to run interference. At the crucial moment, you will skitter into the Slytherin common room and set off a smoke bomb of some kind, which will of course be assembled tomorrow afternoon by our dear friend Padfoot, leaving me free to rifle the dorms without interruption." Peter frowned and opened his mouth to object, but James held up a hand to forestall it. "Yes, Peter, we'll make sure none of the Slytherin cats will be in the area first." 

"Even if they did, you'd have nothing to fear," Sirius snickered. "Lousy beasts are probably as stuck-up as their owners. Don't deign to chase rodents." 

"Watch who you're calling a rodent, mongrel," Peter scowled. 

"I meant it in the best sense, Wormtail." 

James cleared his throat. "We were intending to do some marauding, weren't we, gentlemen? Back to the business at hand. Anyone see any flaws in the plan?" 

"Do you know the password to get in?" Sirius asked. 

"'Course. Followed one of the first-years this morning in the invisibility cloak and listened in; it's 'Wyvern Wing' this week." 

"I don't know about setting the distraction in the common room," Remus said slowly. "If everyone's in there panicking it'll be easy for you to get to Snape's trunk, yes, but it'll also be almost impossible for you to get out again afterwards without running into someone." 

Sirius waved a hand. "You worry too much, Remus. He'll be wearing the cloak; no one will notice him. James could probably raid Dumbledore's office without getting caught." 

"There's an idea," James mused. 

Peter groaned. "Don't even think about it, Prongs. The Slytherins are one thing, but Dumbledore?" 

"Why not? He'd probably think it was funny." 

"Not with my help you won't. I'm not about to play a prank on the best wizard in the world. He'd eat me alive." 

"Take it easy, Peter, no one's asking you to rob Dumbledore." 

"Just the Slytherins," Peter grumbled. "Break into the dorms indeed." 

"But will you do it?" 

"Of course I'll do it." He grinned. "It's a beautiful idea, James. Snape'll go spare when he sees the hall on Hallowe'en." 

Sirius clapped his hands together. "It's settled then. I'll whip up a potion tomorrow during lunch. What do you need, James?" 

"Like I said: smoke, and lots of it. Something purple, I think, with a lot of flash. The trick will be keeping their attention long enough for me to get in and out." 

"Leave that to me; I'll brew you a beauty. Though I'll need to borrow the cloak to sneak into MacCavity's office for a few ingredients." 

"What about me?" Remus wanted to know. "Do I get any part in this one?" 

"Not just yet," James said. "We'll need you to pull the switch with the banner. You're better at Charms than the rest of us." 

"Besides," Sirius said sneakily. "You've got better things to do than waste time sneaking around the Slytherins." 

Remus looked simultaneously suspicious and embarrassed. Peter and James both looked at Sirius, who was smirking. "What's this?" Peter asked. 

"Didn't you know? Reverend Moony has a flame." 

"Sirius!" Remus protested. 

"Oooooh!" Peter pounced on this information. "Who's the girl?" 

"Tamatha Davis," Sirius intoned. 

"Tamatha, Tamatha..." James pondered, trying to remember. 

"Hufflepuff prefect. Brown hair, brown eyes. Spends a lot of time plotting to take over the Ministry of Magic. Completely barmy, so a perfect match for Remus." 

"Peter and Trelawny are both wrong," Remus said with certainty, glaring at the other boy. "I'll die in Azkaban after murdering you." 

Sirius grinned. "Temper, Moony, temper." 

James intervened before the mock-fight could turn more serious. "We've all got our parts then. Tomorrow afternoon, Sirius will whip up a bomb for us. Tomorrow evening--during dinner, I think, there'll be less people around--Peter and I will raid the Slytherin dorms. Remus will spend the three days between then and Hallowe'en practicing his levitation and contemplating Tamatha Davis' charms." He grinned at all of them. "How's it sound?" 

"You left out the bit where we use a love potion to make Gwen fall for me." 

"Maybe next time, Peter." 

"It's a plan," Sirius leapt to his feet, grinning wickedly. "Just wish I could storm the Slytherins with you, James. You get to have all the fun." 

"It _is_ my cloak," James retorted. "Besides, you're too enthusiastic. I want a nice, clean, in-and-out operation. I know you, Sirius; as soon as you were inside you'd run around spying on the girls and throwing things at the boys, pretending to be Peeves or something. The real prank will be on Hallowe'en; this is just preparation." 

"You always want to plan things. Whatever happened to good old spontaneous mayhem?" 

"It's alive and kicking," Remus said wryly. "Just ask that Ravenclaw whose clothes turned invisible last month. I hear that if she ever finds out who did it, she'll curse his arse off...among other things." 

"Really?" Peter said, interested. "Did she say what she'd do for anybody who handed the bloke over to her?" 

Sirius scowled. "Don't even think about it." 

"It'd serve you right for calling me a rodent." 

James laughed. "Come on, mates. Now that we've got a plan, it's time for a bit of celebration. Pass the Toads." 

As Remus passed the peppermints over, Sirius attacked the rucksack; he pulled out several bags of food and a small keg of butterbeer. "Smashing," he exclaimed with delight, eyeing the keg. He uncorked it and held it in the air, grinning at James. "To Master Prongs and his plots: may his wits stay keen and his morals loose!" 

"And to the humiliation of Severus Snape," James grinned back. 

"I'll drink to that," Remus laughed. "Pass the butterbeer, Sirius." 

The keg passed from boy to boy. "There's a lot that can go wrong with this one, though," Peter said thoughtfully. "We'll have to be careful." 

"No, just quick on your feet." Sirius grinned wickedly. "Beats me what you're worried about, Wormtail; you've got the easy bit. Who'll notice a rat in all the confusion?" 

James stretched out, closing his eyes briefly and letting the sounds of his friends' discussion wash over him. It was only a few weeks into term, but already it looked to be a good year. They'd finally solved the Animagus spell during the previous term, but hadn't had many chances to experiment with their new ability. James was anxious to spend more time exploring Hogwarts; all the area would be an open book to them now. As a rat, Peter would be able to find out secrets even Filch had never dreamed about the school. As a dog, Sirius would have free run of the village of Hogsmeade. He, James, would be able to cover the vast Hogwarts grounds in a flash as a stag. Remus, during his monthly transformations, would be able to explore the Forbidden Forest without fear; even in the Forbidden Forest, nothing wanted to mess with a werewolf or a werewolf's friends. And in addition to these explorations there were exciting new classes, not to mention Quidditch. 

James smiled. He had a lot of plans for the year. But he could put them all on hold for a day or two to make trouble for his worst enemy. Some things, after all, were priceless. His smile broadened; he could already imagine the look on Snape's face. 

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough. 

ashfae@technicaldetails.org   
http://www.ashfae.net 


	2. Chapter Two

James waited by the doors to the Great Hall, trying to look unobtrusive. From the doorway he could see both the Great Hall and the corridors leading to it, which was helpful as he needed to keep an eye on several people at once. Peter, his partner-in-crime for the evening, was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Remus. Snape, the intended victim, had left the Slytherin table a few minutes previous, heading towards the dungeons. All of the teachers were at the High Table, except for Professor Point, who had walked in the direction of the library, and Professor Trelawny, who was only rarely seen outside of the Astronomy Tower. The Slytherin table was filled near to overflowing, which meant there would be few Slytherins in the dorms. Conditions were nearly ideal for an hour of sabotage and burglary, except for one small detail: Sirius was nowhere to be found. James frowned impatiently. He could probably accomplish the deed alone, without the aid of a distraction in the Slytherin common room...but it would be much more difficult, and also much less entertaining. He was really looking forward to pulling one over, not just on Snape, but on all the Slytherins. But time was passing; before long, the Slytherins would be finishing dinner, and teachers would once again prowl the hallways, and it'd be too risky to attempt a break-in. 

"James!" 

James whirled about to see Sirius pounding down the hallway, grinning broadly. "Took you long enough," he said reproachfully. 

"That's gratitude. Next time you can brew your own distraction. Let me watch; I'd love to see you melt your cauldron through the table again." 

James glowered. "That was four years ago!" 

"Your point?" 

"Sod off, Sirius, and hand it over. Time's running short." 

"Take it easy, Prongs." Sirius handed a small bottle to James. "Here. Just pour it on the ground. There'll be smoke enough to attract a dragon, and after a few seconds it'll mesmerize anyone in the area." He looked smug. "Invented that bit over the summer; been dying for a chance to try it out." 

"It sounds excellent, but are you sure it'll work? If those Slytherins aren't good and distracted--" 

"They will be. Have I ever let you down?" 

"No." James grinned suddenly, and clasped his friend's arm. "Thanks, Padfoot. How long will the mesmer last?" 

"About ten minutes. It has a range of about ten metres, so be sure you're away before it starts, and don't look at the smoke even if you are out of range. Here, use this bit of wire here to attach the bottle to Peter. You'll have to open it for him, though." 

"That's not a problem." James held up the small bottle. The liquid inside was clear; it could easily have been water. "You're not having me on, are you?" he said with sudden suspicion. "It'd be quite the trick, to leave me and Peter surrounded by Slytherins." 

Sirius grinned. "It would, but I'm not about to give Snape the satisfaction of catching you breaking rules. It'd make him far too happy. If you ever decide to raid the Hufflepuff dorms, then you should worry about sabotage. That's really it, James. It'll start reacting when it comes into contact with the air, so keep the bottle shut until you're ready." 

"Right." James pocketed the bottle and looked around the Great Hall. It was filled nearly to bursting; each of the giant tables was crowded with students. Dinner was at its high point; this would be his best chance. "We'll meet you and Remus in the tower afterwards. Save some food for us." 

"Marauding is a hungry business," Sirius said solemnly. 

James grinned and looked over at the Gryffindor table. Peter and Remus were sitting there, watching him and Sirius in the doorway. James motioned, and Peter stood up to leave. Remus said something; Peter laughed, then ducked as Sirius attempted to hit him on the head before taking his seat. Peter walked up to James. "Now?" he said, nervous excitement in his voice. 

"Now," James said firmly. "Come on. We've got to be quick if we want to finish before dinner's over." 

They walked through the hallways down to the dungeon, talking easily about Care of Magical Creatures so as not to arouse suspicion in anyone they passed. In no time at all they were at the dungeons. The area looked deserted, but just in case, James ducked aside into a niche in a wall before pulling out the invisibility cloak. He swung it around his shoulders while Peter made his transformation. James leaned out to check that the halls were still empty; they were. 

He bent down and picked up Peter, who was remarkably quiet for someone being lifted by an invisible hand. James pulled the bottle out of his pocket. Carefully, he tied the wire around Peter's waist so that the bottle rested on his back, with the opening pointing towards Peter's tail. He tugged at the wire a bit. "How's that?" he asked quietly. "Does it feel secure enough to you?" 

There was an affirmative squeak. Still holding the rat in his hand, hidden underneath the cloak, James approached the stone wall that hid the entrance to the Slytherin dorms. "Wyvern wing," he muttered. The stone wall began to shift and shimmer, and an opening appeared. James stepped through, and scanned his new surroundings thoroughly. 

The Slytherin common room was long and chilly; the walls and floor were all made of stone, covered here and there with green carpets and tapestries. A large fireplace was set in one wall; several chairs were placed close to it, and the few students who weren't up at dinner were all staying close to the fire. James smirked inwardly; the place must be deadly cold in winter. There was a lot of open space, which would be handy if things got crowded. He surveyed the room, trying to gauge which hallway would lead to his goal. 

One of the students by the fire left his high-backed chair and walked towards a hallway. James stifled a howl of delight; it was Snape. Snape walked quickly towards a hallway and entered a door at the end of the passage; after a few minutes, he reemerged holding a book and returned to his seat by the fire. 

James grinned to himself. This was going to be too easy. 

He bent down and gently deposited Peter on the floor behind one of the chairs. Carefully, he unhinged the little bottle tied to the rat's back. As soon as this was completed, he whispered, "Go!" 

Peter immediately began to run in a wide circle around the Slytherin common room; the bottle was designed to not let out too much liquid at once, so the potion was well spread over the area before it began to work. Wisps of mist began to rise from the ground; the wisps grew into clouds of inky purple. The few students in the area had begun to notice, and were calling out for others to come see. Even Snape was eyeing the clouds with wary curiosity. James wished he could stay to watch the fun; the potion looked to be everything Sirius had promised. He checked for Peter, and saw the rat was running down one of the corridors, out of range of the effects of the potion. James cast one more delighted glance at the violet smoke, which was now shimmering and sparking in the air, then sneaked down the corridor he'd seen Snape use. He'd only gone a few feet before the hustle and bustle from the common room ceased, as abruptly as though everyone in it had Disapparated. So far, everything was going according to plan. 

At the end of the corridor was a large room, filled with beds and belongings but completely empty of people. By the bunk in the corner was a large, black trunk; Snape's name was written on it in ornate silver letters, and it had no less than six locks. James stifled a snort that was equal parts amazement and disbelief. He'd never seen so many locks and protection spells outside of a teacher's office; Snape was obviously paranoid. Which was only fair, James supposed; he'd be paranoid, too, if he lived with a bunch of Slytherins. Fortunately, he'd come prepared. Quickly and carefully, he began dismantling the locks. The first attempted to bite the end of his wand, but opened with a simple _Alohamora_. Another unlocked only after he used a tricky charm to make the inner gears too slippery to work. The last responded to no spells at all; that one James opened using a set of Muggle lockpicks he'd picked up in London. He smirked; it was just like Snape to include a magicproof lock. Most wizards at the school wouldn't have the foggiest idea how to deal with one. 

It took longer than he'd intended--by his reckoning, nine of the precious ten minutes were gone before he'd finished--but finally the trunk was opened. James whistled quietly as he eyed the contents. Most of it was pretty ordinary: books, spell components, clothes. But James saw a few unmistakable tomes of dark magic mixed in with the books, and some of the herbs were absolutely forbidden to students. It was a pity James couldn't let his presence in the Slytherin dorms be discovered; if any teachers got wind of Snape's trunk, the git would probably be expelled. 

James sighed. Tempting as the thought was, there was no way to pull it off now. He grabbed what he'd come for, noting with amusement that Snape seemed to have written his name inside every article of clothing he owned. 

There was a sudden burst of noise from the common rooms, followed by the sound of footsteps running down the hallway. 

James slammed the lid of the trunk down with a loud bang, tucking the undershorts away inside a pocket and drawing the cloak close around him. He stood up, backing away into the center of the room and watching the doorway carefully. 

Snape appeared, his eyes darting around the empty room suspiciously. His gaze fell upon the trunk; he must have seen that it was unlocked, because he snarled and lunged towards it. Silent as a cat, James slid around him and through the door. Once outside the room, he walked as quickly as he could down the hallway towards the common room; any minute now the Slytherins would be heading back to their dorms, and he needed to be clear of the halls before then or risk being caught. Fortunately, most of the Slytherins weren't as suspicious as Snape; they were still gathered in the center of the common room, talking excitedly and staring at the ceiling, where a few wisps of smoke still lingered. James looked around, then cursed under his breath. Peter was running across the floor towards the portal. In his excitement and anxiety to get away, he was openly bolting. A few of the Slytherins had noticed, and were eyeing the rat with curiosity; one burly fifth-year was moving to intercept him. There was a roar of rage from behind, and James knew that Snape was looking for whoever had dared to go through his things. He had to get Peter and get out, fast, before the other Slytherins joined in the search; his invisibility cloak would be no help at all in a crowd. 

He sprinted forward, chasing after Peter and reaching him just before the Slytherin fifth-year, who gasped as the rat suddenly disappeared into thin air. Peter, mercifully, must have guessed what had happened, because he was limp and quiet in James' grasp. James weaved through the approaching Slytherins and bolted for the exit, praying that the invisibility cloak was still covering him. To his relief, no one seemed to see him. Snape was bellowing in the background, ordering someone to block the door, but James got there first. From this side, the portal was an ordinary-looking door; he pushed it open and all but leapt through. He looked over his shoulder and nearly laughed with relief; the stone wall had reformed behind them. 

But he was so busy looking for a sign of pursuit from behind that he forgot to look ahead, and crashed soundly into someone walking through the corridor. 

There was a small shriek of surprise, some high-pitched squeaking from Peter, and James couldn't stop himself from giving out a yelp of dismay. They all fell to the ground, a tangle of limbs and confusion, and the invisibility cloak was pulled off. 

"What on earth--?" 

He looked up to find a girl regarding him with astonishment. The sight held him transfixed for a split second; he'd never seen eyes so startlingly green. 

Then the reality of his circumstances returned; he could hear the stone wall shifting open again behind him, could hear Snape's muffled curses. Quickly he scrambled to his feet, pulling the invisibility cloak over his head. The girl he'd run into--Lily Evans, he identified, another Gryffindor prefect--let out another gasp and pulled herself up, gazing searchingly at the place where James had disappeared. 

"Evans!" Snape shouted at Lily as he emerged. "Did you see anyone come through here?" 

"Don't tell," James whispered in her ear. "_Please_ don't tell." 

But Lily's face had hardened at the sight of Snape, and she had already regained her composure. She didn't answer, merely watched with intense dislike as Snape growled and searched the area. "He must be here," he hissed. "It must have been Potter or Black. It could only have been one of them." He whirled back to Lily. "You're hiding something!" 

Lily crossed her arms over her chest and said, coolly, "You can see as well as I that the corridors are empty, Snape. You must have been imagining things." 

"Show me where he is or I'll tell Dumbledore that you're an accomplice to a breaking and entering of _my_ dorm room," he snarled. "We'll see how clean your record is after _that_." 

"My, aren't we threatening," Lily answered, unruffled. "I've never been so terrified." 

James was having a great deal of trouble not laughing as Snape turned purple with fury. "Listen here, you filthy--" 

"You can speak more respectfully, Severus Snape, or I'll write you up," Lily interrupted, smiling sweetly. "You _are_ causing a disturbance in the halls, after all; as a prefect it's my duty to report you. Though in your case it'd be a pleasure." 

James prepared himself; Snape looked like he wanted to throttle Lily, and he might be angry enough to do it. James might want to avoid being seen, but he wasn't about to let a fight break out over it, particularly not between his worst enemy and an innocent bystander. Though Lily was still a picture of unconcern, apparently not in the least worried by Snape's fury. 

"I say, is there a problem?" 

It was Professor Point, the Arithmancy teacher. James hadn't noticed her approach; from the look of it, neither had Snape. 

"I'm afraid Severus here has been imagining things, Professor," Lily said amiably, as though they'd been discussing the weather. 

Snape swelled until he seemed to be on the verge of exploding. "_My room's been broken into!_" He pointed a finger at Lily. "And _she_ knows who did it!" 

Professor Point looked at Lily. "Is this true, Miss Evans? Was someone in the Slytherin dormitories?" 

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I'm afraid I didn't see anyone come through the portal except for Severus." 

James had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing. Professor Point looked a little suspicious, and Snape outraged, but Lily's face was the epitome of honest innocence. 

"Well then," Professor Point said finally. "If there has been an intrusion into your room, Mr. Snape, you would do best to bring it up with the head of Slytherin House. I'm sure he will make sure the matter is investigated thoroughly. Miss Evans, you may go." Snape opened his mouth to protest, glaring furiously at Lily, but Professor Point silenced him with a look. 

"Thank you, Professor." Lily smiled sweetly at Snape. "Good luck, Severus. I _do_ hope you catch them." Her voice dripped with sincerity; Snape looked murderous. James wished he had a camera; he wanted that expression immortalized. 

Lily walked away, slow and inconspicuous; James followed. After a few minutes, she whispered, "Are you still here?" 

"Yes," James answered. He looked over his shoulder to see Professor Point leading Snape in the opposite direction. As soon as the corridors were deserted, he whipped the cloak off and bundled it under one arm. This time Lily didn't so much as flinch at his sudden appearance. "Thank you," he said lightly as she paused to look at him. "Your help was invaluble." 

"Believe me, it's my pleasure to get that greasy, noodle-brained nitwit in trouble." She eyed the cloth bundle and shook her head. "That's an invisibility cloak. No wonder you get away with so many tricks." 

"I'll admit it comes in handy. You won't tell anyone, will you?" 

"Well...that depends," she said in a thoughtful tone. 

He felt his heart sink. Surely she wasn't going to blackmail him? "Depends on what?" 

"On whether or not you promise to throw something at Snape's head in my behalf, next time you get a chance. Preferably something slimy." 

James chuckled. "I'll see what I can do." 

She was looking down at his feet; Peter had scrambled up the corridor to catch up with them, now that the excitement was over, and was resting on James' shoe. "I didn't know you had a pet rat." 

"Oh, he's an old friend. Name of Wormtail," James said airily. 

"Wormtail?" Lily repeated. "That's a silly sort of name." 

"It was his idea." Peter chittered and jumped on James' foot; James tried to ignore the sensation of little teeth scraping at his shoe, glaring at his transformed friend and silently willing him to stop being irritating. "I'm sorry I ran into you, by the way." 

"Yes, you should be." She grinned suddenly. "But I'll forgive you if you tell me what you were doing in the Slytherin dorms." 

James grinned back. "You'll see on Hallowe'en." 

"That's hardly fair; if it weren't for me, you'd have detention at the very least, and god only knows how many points you would have lost for Gryffindor. And that cloak would certainly have been confiscated." 

"Seriously, you won't tell about the cloak, will you?" he asked earnestly. "It belongs to my father, I'm not supposed to have it. He'll kill me if it's confiscated." 

"It'd serve you right if I did--" Lily smiled. "But I won't tell. Though if I ever catch you sneaking around our dorm with it on--" 

"I wouldn't dream of it." 

She raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. "Of course not," she said in a wry voice. To his amazement, James felt himself flush, and wondered if she could somehow read his mind; he and Sirius had once used the cloak to spy on the Gryffindor girls' bathroom. 

Lily let out a small sigh. "Well, if you won't tell me what you were up to, I may as well go see what's left of dinner. I certainly hope your prank was worth all this trouble." 

"It will be," he promised. 

She tossed him one final skeptical smile, then walked briskly down the corridor towards the Great Hall. 

James stood still, watching her retreating form. It was odd, he thought. He'd been at school with Lily Evans for more than five years, but he could count the number of times he'd spoken to her on one hand, despite the fact that they were both prefects. Still, he had a sense of her personality, and the night's events didn't quite tally with it. He wouldn't have guessed that she'd be willing to deceive a teacher, or that she hated Snape as much as she obviously did. 

And where did she get those eyes? 

James didn't realize he was staring until Peter began scurrying about excitedly. Even in high-pitched rat squeakings, his meaning came through loud and clear: Oooooh, Prongs, see something you like? 

"Stuff it, Wormtail," James muttered. "Or I'll step on you. Come on, let's get back to Gryffindor tower. I'm starving." 

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	3. Chapter Three

The enigma of Lily Evans was still on James' mind the next morning. He woke early and went to breakfast without rousing any of the others, mulling over the events of the previous night. He and Peter had returned to the Gryffindor common room to find Sirius and Remus waiting with a table of food and expectant expressions. Peter had related their exploits with appropriate melodrama, laying particular detail on the brief chase scene. James had interrupted to describe the locks on Snape's trunk in terms that reduced everyone to fits of laughter. But when Peter brought up Lily and the way she'd faced down Snape, James found himself steering the subject towards Hallowe'en. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want his brief conversation with her discussed. Fortunately the change of subject had been eagerly embraced; all four boys were delighted by the prospect of Snape's upcoming humiliation. 

But Lily remained in the back of James' head, and he found himself looking for her in the Great Hall at breakfast. Sure enough, she was sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table, involved in an animated discussion with several other girls. James frowned, trying to organize what he knew of her into some semblance of order. The problem was that he didn't know much, for all that they were in the same year. His attention was usually given to his immediate friends and Quidditch; his path hadn't crossed with hers on many occasions. She was good at her lessons, particularly Charms. She had many friends; he recognized one of the girls she was sitting with now as Demeter Demaris, who'd had a brief tempestuous fling with Sirius the previous year. She was well liked, particularly by younger students, and she took her prefect duties seriously. 

That last was what was confusing him, James decided. If Lily was as responsible as she seemed, why had she helped deceive Professor Point? Why hadn't she just turned him in? It was true that she obviously loathed Snape, which was interesting in and of itself. And she'd manipulated the scene brilliantly, leaving the Slytherin without a leg to stand on. But it didn't fit with his impression of her. As a prefect, she should have turned him in. Gryffindors weren't even supposed to know where the Slytherin dorms were, much less enter them, and he'd as good as said that he'd stolen from Snape. Prefects were supposed to help prevent such inter-house rivalry, to say nothing of trespassing and burglary. 

Of course, James mused, he was a prefect too, and he'd been the one causing all the trouble. Maybe he'd just overestimated Lily's sense of duty. 

"You're up early," a wry voice said. "It's the weekend, dolt. Why aren't you still in bed?" 

James grinned as Remus sat down beside him. "Kit's holding a planning session for the match against Ravenclaw next week, and damned if I'm sitting through one of his lectures without some breakfast. What's your excuse for not lounging about?" 

"The early bird gets the flobberworm; I want to get started on that Quintaped essay." 

James groaned. "Don't be too productive, Remus. You'll make the rest of us look bad." 

"That was the idea," the other boy said mildly, smiling. "Pass the marmalade." 

They lapsed into silence, eating quietly. James stared off into space. Then he realized that he wasn't actually staring into space--he was watching Lily. He shook his head slightly, turning his attention back to breakfast. It wasn't really important, he decided. She'd done him a favour. He'd find a way to thank her for it sometime, and that was that. He pushed his plate away and stood. "See you later." 

"If you're not washed away," Remus said, gesturing upwards. "It's pouring." 

James glared up at the ceiling; sure enough, storm clouds loomed, no doubt echoing the sky outside. "Thanks so much for pointing that out; I never would have noticed on my own." 

Remus waved a piece of toast at him. "Just doing my part to help the team. Kit would be furious if one of his Chasers drowned." 

"I'm overwhelmed by your concern for my well-being," James said sarcastically. 

"Get along with you, James. I have an essay to write." 

Quidditch practice was very long and very wet. Kit went over possible strategies until James' head spun. The Ravenclaw team was extremely good this year, and Gryffindor needed to be prepared for every possible tactic. It was Kit's third and final year as Quidditch captain; he'd won the cup for the past two years, and hoped to make his record three for three before leaving Hogwarts. Which was fine by James, who'd been playing Quidditch for as long as he'd been riding a broomstick, and who'd ridden a broomstick as long as he'd known how to say the word "Up!" 

Still, no matter how enthused one was about Quidditch, it was hard to enjoy scoring goals while being half-drenched and buffeted by winds on all sides. It was with a sense of immense relief that James stumbled back into his dorm room late in the afternoon. After changing into drier clothes and confirming that no one was around to provide a distraction, he decided resignedly that he might as well be productive and head to the library. He'd missed lunch, and it was only an hour or two before dinner; hopefully revising would divert his mind from his empty stomach. 

To his astonishment, Remus was sitting at one of the tables in the library, pouring over a large book. Beside him was a long piece of parchment, a good four feet of which was filled with small, loopy handwriting. "You haven't been here all day," James said, disbelieving. 

Remus looked up and grinned. "Not all of it, but most. How was practice?" 

"Wet. How's the essay?" 

"Breezing; I found the perfect resource." Remus showed James the cover of the tome, which read Bane of the MacBoons: The Hairy History of the Quintaped. "Only copy in the library. Anything you could possibly want to know about the beasts is in here." 

"Excellent. How long's the essay supposed to be again?" 

"Five feet. Go on and take this, I only have a bit left." Remus shut the book and passed it over as James joined him at the table. 

Bane of the MacBoons proved sufficiently interesting to distract James, and it certainly made the Quintaped essay a breeze to write. By the time his stomach had given up gentle suggestion and started demanding dinner outright, James was two feet into his own essay and feeling quite cheerful. He and Remus exited the library arguing over whether it was possible to capture a Quintaped, and what one would look like if it were transformed back into a human. 

But metaphysical speculation takes a poor second place to fried chicken when you're sixteen, and the discussion was forgotten as soon as they entered the Great Hall. Sirius and Peter were already seated at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly. "What's happening, lads?" James asked as he flung himself onto the bench beside them and attacked a plate of drumsticks. He glanced casually at the other end of the table; Lily was sitting where she'd been that morning. She was talking to a third-year James didn't recognize, and looked amused. 

"Peter and I," Sirius announced solemnly, "have had a brilliant idea." 

"Oh Merlin, not another one," Remus groaned, reaching for the potatoes. 

"No, listen, this is good," Peter said excitedly. "We're going to hold a poker tournament. A massive one, in the Gryffindor common room, on Hallowe'en. We want everyone involved." 

"Count me out," James said around a mouth full of chicken. 

Peter looked surprised. "Why?" 

"Because you, my dear Doctor Wormtail, can count cards, while Sirius can outwit even the most sneaky anti-cheating spell. I've played poker with you before, remember? I like my money where it is, thanks all the same." 

"Ah, but that's one of the good bits," Sirius smirked. "We won't be playing for money." 

"What then?" 

Peter held up a hand and started counting down fingers. "Dragon Snaps, Licorice Wands, Fudge Flies, Choc-O-Balls…" 

Remus eyed at the pair of them shrewdly. "In short, your brilliant plan is to use a poker tournament to steal everyone's Hallowe'en sweets." 

"That's it," Sirius confirmed. "What do you think?" 

"I think it's sneaky, unscrupulous, and devilish, and the whole of Gryffindor House will be out for your blood if they realize your true motives." Remus grinned broadly. "Sounds fun. After the Hallowe'en Feast, then?" 

Peter nodded. "We've got it all worked out. There'll be an entrance fee of one bag of sweets. All those will be pooled together for the winner, which is bound to be me or Sirius, and we've already agreed to split the winnings in the end." He looked at James earnestly. "You're not _really_ going to sit this one out, are you James? Just think of it!" 

"Think of what, the stomachache you'll have after a Hallowe'en feast followed by enough sweets to choke a hippogriff?" James said wryly. 

"Don't be a prat, Prongs, you know it'll be brilliant." Sirius grinned. "You're just jealous that you didn't think of it first." 

James grinned back. "Maybe. All right, all right, I'm in. But you'd better save me some Peppermint Toads when you win." 

"We've got to be sure to get Bastian to play," Sirius mused. "His family sends him Muggle sweets for Hallowe'en, and I've always wanted to try a Mars Bar." 

Peter nodded vigorously. "Jolie Barnes too, her family always sends her stuff. And Rhys, and--" 

James was more interested in his dinner than in this discussion of sneaky schemes to steal sweets. He ate contentedly, letting his attention wander back to the other end of the Gryffindor table, where Lily was still talking animatedly with the unidentified third-year. Lily leaned forward and said something, then she and the other girl both burst out laughing. James wondered what was so funny. 

"Blink, mate. Your eyes are about to pop out of your head." 

James jumped and looked at Remus. "What?" 

Remus raised an eyebrow, smiling. "You're staring." 

James bristled. "No, I wasn't." 

"What's this?" Peter asked at once, abandoning talk of upcoming poker tournament. 

"James is sussing out Lily Evans," Remus said. "Witness the glassy-eyed gaze." 

"I am not," James protested automatically, glancing around and praying that no one else at the table had heard. 

"You are, you've been gaping at her ever since we sat down. You were watching her this morning, too." 

"Evans?" Sirius looked down the table. "I picked up a friend of hers once." 

Peter snorted. "Sirius, you've picked up everyone's friend once. I wouldn't be surprised to hear that you picked up McGonagall once." 

"'Course I did. She wears a picture of me in a locket around her neck, didn't you know? Kisses it every night before she goes to sleep." 

"That explains why she always looks so sour, then. Even looking at a picture of you is enough to give someone warts." 

"This has to be a first for James, though," Sirius mused, deflecting the teasing away from himself. "I don't think I've ever seen him suss out someone who didn't play Quidditch." 

"Don't encourage him, Sirius," Remus said lazily. "We have enough trouble competing with you. If James expands his circle outside of the Quidditch scene, there won't be any girls left for the rest of us. He's already got a bloody fan club, even if he never notices them." 

"I notice them," James retorted, indignant. "They just aren't interesting. They aren't really interested, either. If I weren't on the team none of them would look twice at me." 

"But meantime they are looking," Sirius pointed out. "I can't imagine why you don't take advantage of it; certainly they wouldn't complain. If I had half the girls that chase after you--" 

"Then you'd spend all your time chasing after the other half," Peter grinned. 

Sirius waved a hand dismissively. "My point is that you can have pretty much any girl you want, James. Beats me why you've only ever gone for Quidditch players." 

Defensive, James said, "Every bloke wants a girl who shares his interests. And I like Quidditch." 

Remus motioned his head towards the far end of the table. "Then why are you still sussing out Lily? She's not your type at all." 

"I have a type?" James asked absently. He hadn't even noticed that he was staring at Lily again. 

"Petite. Athletic. Dark-haired." Peter counted off attributes on his fingers. 

"You've just described Gwendolyn Delacroix, and I've been going out of my way all year to avoid her." 

Sirius shrugged. "A minor technicality." 

James glared at his friends, irritated. "Is there a reason why you've all suddenly decided to dissect my love life, or is it just for the hell of it?" 

"For the hell of it," Peter said immediately. 

"Though it helps that you're making an easy target of yourself," Remus added, smiling. 

James ignored this, turning his attention back to dinner and only half-listening as the conversation turned from him to Gwen, and from Gwen to girls in general. He poked at his food. Gradually his eyes drifted up from his plate and back down the table to Lily. He gave up the pretense of being disinterested and considered her carefully. Lily's face was etched with lines of intelligence and humour. Her hair was dark red and fell past her shoulders; every few minutes she reached up an absent hand to brush it out of her face. Her eyes were her best feature, no question; their brilliance was startling. She was smiling about something. 

There was no denying that she was pretty. Still, next to a stunner like Gwendolyn Delacroix or Demeter Demaris, Lily was barely noticeable. 

Except...now that he had noticed her, he just seemed to keep on noticing her. Odd, that. 

"He's at it again. Should we warn Gwen she's got competition?" 

James glowered at Sirius, who was smirking. "So I'm looking at Lily Evans; there's no need to bang on about it. _You_ look at girls all the time." 

"Ah, but I'm a connoisseur," Sirius said sagely. 

"That's a polite term for what you are," Peter grinned. 

"Don't you lot have better things to do?" James pointed out, exasperated. "Are you and Sirius already finished planning the sweet-stealing coup of the century, Peter? And Remus, you need to be revising your levitation charms. I didn't root through Snape's things last night for the fun of it, you know. We have a prank to pull." 

"True, true," Sirius grinned. "Come on, mates. We have better things to do than watch James watch Lily. Let's go have a poker game of our own. We'll need the practice if you want to win on Hallowe'en, and Remus still owes me ten Galleons from last time." 

"What a shame I'm too busy to give you the chance to win more," Remus said without turning a hair, as they all stood to leave the Great Hall. "I really must rehearse my hovering charms, after all." 

"Coward." 

"Cheater." 

"I didn't cheat; I swear those four aces found their way to my hand completely on their own." 

"Of course they did. And I'm a hinkypunk." 

"Lay off, men," James interjected. "Peter, want me to spread the word about this poker tournament?" 

Peter waved a hand. "Don't bother, you'd just get the details mixed up. I'll make posters for the common room." 

"I'll help you, then," Sirius offered. 

"No, you won't," Peter said calmly. 

Sirius looked injured. "Why not?" 

"Because no one can read your handwriting." 

Sirius looked peeved. "Remus won't play poker with me, Peter won't let me help make posters, and James is busy staring at some girl. What am I supposed to do with myself for the rest of the night?" 

James decided that the next person to make fun of the way he'd been watching Lily was going to find himself on the wrong side of a nasty curse. "You could take a bath. They can probably smell you down in the dungeons." 

"Careful, Prongs. I know where you sleep." 

"Yes, but I know who hid those spiders in Peter's bedsheets last week." 

Peter's eyes suddenly narrowed, and he looked at Sirius with angry suspicion. "What's this? That was _you?_" 

"James--" Sirius growled, but before he could continue Peter had pulled out a wand. Sirius apparently decided survival was the better part of valor and booked it as Peter fired hex after hex at his unprotected back. 

Remus watched them run down the hallway, openly amused. "I thought you put those spiders in Peter's bed," he said to James. 

James put on an innocent expression. "I never said Sirius had done it, I only said I knew who had. It is _my_ fault how Peter interpreted it?" 

Remus laughed and clapped James on the back. "Come on, let's get after them. After we stop Peter from killing Sirius and Sirius from killing you, you can help me practice for Hallowe'en." 

"What am I supposed to help you practice, levitation or poker?" 

"Perhaps we could come up with a way to do both at once?" 

James grinned and followed Remus down the hallway towards Gryffindor tower, already anticipating the chaos that would meet him at the other end. 

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	4. Chapter Four

Remus's hovering charm turned out to be nothing short of masterful. He managed to sneak unnoticed into the Great Hall and make the switch before the Hallowe'en feast began, then met the others back in the Gryffindor tower minutes before they were all supposed to head up to the feast themselves. When they asked how it'd gone, Remus just grinned and held out a Slytherin banner. While Sirius and Peter were laughing, James locked the banner away in his trunk; they were sure to think of a use for it later. Chortling and congratulating Remus on his success, they joined the rest of the Gryffindors who were trekking to the Great Hall. 

James tried not to make his interest in the ceiling obvious, but it was hard not to stare at the sight: row after row of banners, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. And where the last Slytherin banner should have hung, Snape's undershorts--dyed a truly hideous shade of pink, at Sirius' insistence--floated serenely. "What charm did you use?" James said to Remus, keeping his voice low. 

"_Eterna Pendeo_," Remus answered. "Whatever you cast it on will stay suspended unless you use another charm to bring it down. Shame it doesn't work on people. Wouldn't it be nice if we could hang Snape up there, instead of just his underwear?" 

Others were noticing the unusual sight now; a group of Ravenclaw girls were openly pointing and laughing. More than one person was wondering who was responsible--including the owner of the item in question. James sniggered openly at Snape's accusing glare, and was gratified to see the boy's face turn a further shade of pasty. 

Snape immediately turned back to the ceiling and pulled out his wand, but too late. Someone had beaten him to it, and the undershorts were now wafting their way towards the Gryffindor table. A group of fourth-years were standing on benches in order to grab the pink undershorts out of the air. Snape buried his head in his hands as laughter broke out; within minutes, the whole of Hogwarts knew that 'Severus Snape' was written in the lining. "Oy, Potter! This your handiwork?" Sebastian Kenet, another Gryffindor sixth-year, shouted across the table. 

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Bastian!" James shouted back. He grinned hugely at Sirius, Remus, and Peter, who all smirked back. The four settled down to enjoy the feast, satisfied that a bad deed had been well done. 

The feast was, as usual, fantastic, and the entertainment almost as good. The best performance of the evening was given by Professor Wyrd, the Ancient Runes teacher, who recited "The Tale of the Defenestrated Duchess." Even some of the older students were quivering by the time she'd finished; ghost stories were much more frightening with actual ghosts around to provide sound effects. When she finished, the entire Hall burst into applause. 

Professor Wyrd's recitation marked the end of the feast, but for the Gryffindors, the fun was just beginning. The announcement of a poker tournament had caused much excitement in the Tower. Over thirty players had signed up, and the majority of the rest of Gryffindor House gathered in the common room to watch the carnage. No sooner had they returned from the feast than Sirius, Peter, Remus, and James began setting things up, with help from other excited competitors. The players were divided into several small groups; these would play until only one player was left in each group, at which point the remaining players would play until only one player remained. Every player had submitted an entrance fee of a large bag of sweets, which were gathered impressively on a table in the corner. Rhys Evans and Cassie Tenax, Beaters on the house Quidditch team, had offered to guard the table in exchange for a percentage of the prize. They sat on either side of the table, each holding a Quidditch bat and looking suspiciously at anyone who dared to approach the gleaming pile of sugar. Not many people were keen to tempt fate and a severe blow to the head by crossing them. Fortunately, there were other distractions about; James and Sirius had snuck down to the kitchens earlier in the day and brought back a staggering amount of food, which disappeared with remarkable speed given that everyone had just eaten a Hogwarts feast. 

In short, the atmosphere in the common room resembled a party more than a competition. Peter, who took his gambling very seriously, rather resented this. At least, he resented it until someone handed him a plate of biscuits, which he ate absentmindedly while scowling at his latest set of cards. Peter, James, Remus, and Sirius had all joined separate groups in order to help ensure that one of them won the grand prize. Sirius was already eyeing the table of sweets with a proprietary air, not at all put off by the menacing way Cassie tapped her bat against her palm. 

James was not much of a card player, but he was so satisfied with the success of his earlier prank that he didn't mind being blown out of the water after only a few hands. Once beaten, he joined the ranks of those egging on other players. Then he caught a flash of red hair and green eyes across the room. Intrigued, he watched from a distance as Lily Evans, who was also competing, demolished her own group. There was scattered applause as she went to sit in the area set aside for those players awaiting the final match. James immediately went over to join her. "We meet again, Miss Evans," he said jovially, sitting down. 

Lily looked at him and smiled, triumph twinkling in her eyes. "So it seems, Mr. Potter. I take it the excitement in the Great Hall this evening was your doing?" 

James put on an expression of calculated innocence. "I admit nothing." 

"You don't have to. I can practically see 'I stole Snape's underwear' written on your forehead." 

"Why'd you ask then?" he grinned. "Thanks again for your help, by the way." 

Lily let out an exaggerated sigh. "If I'd known what you were up to, I wouldn't have bothered. I was expecting something more creative." 

"_More creative?_" James repeated, astonished. "Listen, do you know how much work it took to set that up?" 

"It's the oldest prank in the book. You're supposed to be clever; couldn't you have come up with something new?" 

"It's a classic!" he protested. "Have you no respect for tradition?" 

Lily waved a hand dismissively. "Traditional is just another word for lazy in circumstances like this." 

James laughed despite himself; he was rather startled by the turn the conversation had taken, but enjoying it nonetheless. "All right then; I promise I'll make an effort to be more original from now on. Is there anything in particular you'd like to see?" 

Lily raised an eyebrow. "You're asking a school prefect for advice on how best to break the rules?" 

"Why not? I'm a prefect myself, you'll note," James pointed out, leaning back on his hands. 

"No one would ever guess it, the way you behave. Who did you blackmail to get the position?" 

James grinned broadly. "That, I'm afraid, is between me and Professor McGonagall." 

Lily looked scornful. "Nobody could blackmail McGonagall." 

"Want to bet?" 

They were interrupted by the arrival of Peter, who had finished his own game and come to join those waiting for the finals. "Naff off, James," Peter said arrogantly. "You know you're not good enough to be sitting over here." 

"I like that," James said in mock-affronted tones. "I'll have you know that I was playing poker when you were still in the cradle." 

"That explains why you're so lousy at it, then," Peter retorted. "Picked up bad habits young." 

"I'll take you on any day." 

"All right then. A one on one match, right now. How about we bet your Cloudsurfer against my Comet 180?" 

James leapt to his feet. "On second thought, it looks like the finals are just about to begin; I'd hate to distract you." 

Peter smirked. "Frightened you off, have I." 

"A _good_ poker player," James said loftily, "knows when to cut his losses and retreat. Besides, do you really think I'm daft enough to bet my broomstick against a bloke who probably knows exactly what cards I'm holding?" He grinned once more at Lily and left to join the rest of the Gryffindors on the sidelines. 

The contestants for the finals were Peter, Sirius, Remus, Lily, Elijah Brice, and Hazel O'Connor, and each player had collected a group of supporters. There was excited whispering from the spectators as the first hand was dealt, followed by a breathless silence as the hand was played, followed by cheers and catcalls as Remus won the round. From then on, the betting was fast and furious. Remus, who tended to play either extremely well or extremely badly, was having one of his good days; his poker face was absolutely unreadable. He wiped the tables for the first few hands, and even knocked Sirius out of the running, much to Sirius' irritation. James cheered loudly at this and lobbed extra poker chips at Sirius' head as the other boy grudgingly left the playing field to a smattering of applause. "You don't have to rub it in, James," Sirius scowled, sitting next to him. 

"'Course I do," James said cheerfully. "What are best friends for, if not to kick you when you're down?" 

Sirius looked as though he would have liked to argue, but was shushed by other students as attention focused back on the game. Hazel O'Connor was the next player to go; she looked extremely disappointed as she threw down her cards. Remus lasted a while longer, but a run of extremely poor hands and a failed bluff eliminated him as well. He shrugged philosophically as he joined James and Sirius. This left only Peter, Lily, and Elijah, and things were getting serious. Peter, James noticed, looked distinctly worried. It was Lily's turn as dealer, and she'd chosen to use a deck of Exion's Exchanging Playing Cards for her round. These cards were prone to change values at unexpected moments; a player could be holding a two pair one moment, and the next would find himself with a full house. This meant strategizing was nearly impossible, and that made Peter nervous. It was a clever tactic on Lily's part; James was rather impressed. 

The game was five-card draw. Peter looked pleased with his initial hand, Elijah irritated, and Lily speculative. The betting went high. When the time came to draw, Peter took two cards, Elijah one, and Lily three. James knew he should be rooting for Peter, their last hope of gaining control of the table of sweets, but he found himself wondering about Lily's hand instead; she still looked speculative. One of the cards in her hand shimmered, a sign that it had switched itself with another card, and Lily's eyes widened briefly with excitement. She composed herself immediately, putting on a blank expression. But James had seen, and from the look of things, so had Peter. 

Elijah threw his cards down. "Fold," he announced, scowling at his abandoned hand. 

Peter eyed Lily consideringly, then placed a stack of blue poker chips into the kitty. 

Without a word, Lily pushed half her chips into the pile. 

Muted whispering broke out all through the common room. "Merlin, what do you think she's holding?" Sirius asked James in a low voice that dripped with astonishment. "Must be something impressive, if she's that confident about it." 

Peter paled, staring at the monster pile of poker chips. Indecision weighed on his face. He looked at his own hand, then sighed and put it down. "Fold. It's yours." As Lily claimed her winnings, he burst out, "What did you have?" 

Lily smiled sweetly, and laid down the ten of diamonds, the jack of clubs, the queen of spades, the king of spades...and the six of hearts. 

James blinked for a moment, then burst out laughing. She'd _bluffed_ them! The entire common room roared with applause and approval. Even Elijah and Peter looked impressed, though Peter hit his head with the back of his hand several times, cursing his own idiocy. His expression was etched with determination as he set up the next round, using an ordinary deck of playing cards. Lily was now firmly in the lead; Elijah only had a few chips left, and while Peter wasn't as bad off, his pile looked pitiful compared to Lily's. 

Peter declared that the next game would be English Stud, which meant several rounds of betting. Each player seemed confident; Peter was smirking, Elijah looked smug, and Lily was once again wearing a speculative expression. The pile of poker chips grew and grew. When the time came for the final round of betting, Elijah pushed all his chips into the center. Lily hesitated, then did the same. Peter looked at them both, then added his. The common room erupted into excited murmuring; this, then, would be the final hand. 

Elijah was wearing a broad smirk. "Flush, king high," he announced, laying down his cards with an air of glee. He turned to Lily, obviously expecting her to be disappointed or irritated. 

But Lily was smiling. "Full house, queen high," she declared, showing a hand that included two queens and three sevens. Elijah's face fell. 

Every eye turned to Peter. James found that he was holding his breath; Peter's expression was completely blank. He stared at Lily's cards almost with incomprehension. After what seemed an eternity, without speaking, he laid down his cards...revealing two tens and three nines. 

The common room erupted into noise. Dimly, James was aware that Sirius was cursing furiously, while Remus seemed to be laughing. Peter sat dazed as a hoard of Gryffindor girls crowded around Lily, cheering; Lily herself was almost glowing with triumph. The girls pushed her towards the prize table, where Rhys and Cassie grinned and immediately began discussing which sweets should go to them for acting as guards. Lily laughed as she divided out her winnings, taking a moment to toss an exploding bonbon at Elijah's head; Elijah grinned good-naturedly and ate it. Within seconds the table had been emptied, the contents divided amongst Lily's friends. "Party on the girl's side, Lily?" Demeter Demaris asked, smirking, her arms filled with packages of Fizzing Whizzbees and a small barrel of Every Flavour Beans. 

"Oh, absolutely," Lily agreed at once. "I'd say this calls for a celebration." 

"Just remember to turn the lights out by two am, Prefect Evans, or I'll have to report you!" James called out. 

Lily turned and grinned at him. "Report away, Prefect Potter. I'm sure I could bribe the Headmaster to see my way of things; I hear he quite likes sweets. You can have these, though, as a consolation prize." She tossed him a small box, then turned and followed the other girls down the stairs. 

James looked down at the package in his hands. "Cockroach Cluster?" he said, amazed. "Who on earth donated Cockroach Cluster?" 

"Me," said Sirius, looking at them. "Got them in Honeydukes a while back. Meant to see if I could get Snape to eat them, but I forgot. They've been in the back of my trunk for ages." 

"You used old, cockroach-ridden sweets as part of your entry fee?" James said reproachfully. "Sirius, I'm surprised at you." He considered. "Then again, on second thought I'm not." 

Remus let out a sigh. "A shame none of us won, though." 

"I can't _believe_ it!" Peter said suddenly. "It was a foolproof plan!" 

Remus grinned. "Maybe, but it seems Lily Evans isn't a fool." 

"But no one _ever_ beats Peter at poker!" Sirius ejaculated. "Except me, of course." 

Peter glared at him. "Only when you're cheating." 

"Which is most of the time," Remus added. 

James broke into laughter. "Come on, lads," he said, standing. "It was a good plan, it didn't work, we'll come up with a way to get revenge someday. Meanwhile it's near midnight, and I hear my bed calling." 

"Good thought, we'd best skive off before someone asks us to clean up this mess." Sirius eyed the common room, which was a complete wreck. 

"I can't believe I lost," Peter grumbled. 

Remus clapped the shorter boy on the back. "Cheer up, Peter. I think I've got some leftover treacle if you want it." 

"Yeah, and you're welcome to these," James said, handing over the aged box of Cockroach Cluster. 

Peter immediately handed them back, his expression sardonic. "Thanks all the same, mate, but I think I'd sooner eat a Grindylow." 

"Well, if that's your preference, maybe we can catch one for you. D'you think there are Grindylows in the lake?" Sirius wondered, glancing out the window as they climbed upstairs. 

"Who knows?" Remus yawned. "Tomorrow we'll toss you in, and you can tell us." 

"How would you cook a Grindylow?" James mused, opening the door to their dormitory. 

"Fry it," Sirius said at once. "I bet you could make a killing selling fried Grindylow fingers..." 

James tossed the box of Cockroach Cluster into his trunk and fell into bed, not bothering to undress. Around him were the sounds of other boys getting ready for bed, mingled with Sirius and Peter bickering about how best to advertise Grindylows as fast food. Distantly, he heard shrieks of laughter from the girls' dorms. He fell asleep wondering which laugh might belong to Lily. 

*

Gryffindor lost a large number of points the next day; professors were not pleased by the way their students kept yawning and falling asleep in class. Professor McGonagall was the most irritated of the lot, and looked directly at James when she told them all off for staying up too late. Or at least, so Sirius said--James had been more than half asleep himself at the time, and hadn't noticed. He had to force himself to pay attention in Divination, though ironically enough this was easier than usual; they were studying Phrenology, and even James couldn't sleep through Professor Trelawny poking and prodding at his scalp. She announced with relish that the combination of bumps at the base of his hairline meant that he was unusually prone to falling from great heights. James found that rather irritating, as the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw was only a few days away. 

Still, he was wide awake and ravenous by dinner; he and Remus arrived early and tucked in. Remus looked around for Sirius and Peter; James automatically looked to the opposite end of the table, searching for a glimpse of red hair and green eyes. Lily, he noticed, looked none the worse for having been up all night celebrating. 

Someone hit him on the head, and James looked up angrily. "What was that for?" 

Peter glowered down at him. "You're ogling Lily Evans again, that's what for. Traitor." 

"_Traitor?_" James repeated incredulously. "Just because she beat you at poker?" 

"I'll thank you not to rub it in." Peter sat down and dug into his porridge as though fighting a war; his defeat the previous night had obviously left him irritable. 

Sirius let out an exaggerated sigh. "It would have been excellent; those sweets would've lasted us for ages." 

"Not the way you eat them," Remus said. "They'd've been gone by tomorrow, and you'd be in the Hospital Wing for a week with stomachaches." 

"You can't deny it was impressive, though," James mused, more to himself than his companions, glancing back at Lily. "I don't think any of us have ever managed to bluff Peter." 

Sirius looked solemn. "Ah, but she was cheating. She distracted him with her feminine wiles." 

"What feminine wiles?" Peter retorted grumpily. 

Remus grinned. "The ones James has been ogling, of course. Have you ever seen anyone so absorbed?" 

"Am not," James said absently. 

"You're staring at her now, you git. Earth to James Potter," Remus intoned in a deep voice, waving a hand in front of James' face. James glowered at him, batting the hand away. 

"Merlin's ghost, just ask the girl out, James," Sirius said, exasperated. "Then she can say yes and all this bloody mooning about will be over with. It isn't like you." 

"I am _not_ mooning!" 

"Of course you're not," Sirius retorted. "And Peter's the best dueler at school, and Remus is seeing Trelawny on the sly, and I'm giving up wizardry and turning Muggle." 

James made a depreciating noise and gave up the argument. He had been staring, and he knew it; he just couldn't figure out why. Every time he looked away, he found his gaze drawn back to Lily as though by a magnet. It was downright unnerving. He glared at all three of his friends. "You are all a bunch of bastards," he announced. "And see if I help any of you in Transfiguration ever again. I don't want a girlfriend, I haven't got time--" 

"We know, we know, we've all heard you bang on about it." Peter screwed up his face and imitated James. "'I don't want a girlfriend, I haven't got time, I'm too busy with you lot and Quidditch and homework and making Snape's life a misery and pass the butterbeer and forget what I just said, who's the pretty blonde over there?'" 

"_Sod off_, Peter!" 

"I really don't see the problem, James," Remus said easily, "So you change your mind about wanting a girlfriend. What's wrong with that? I thought you were mental to give them up in the first place, to be honest." 

Peter glared at Remus. "Don't encourage him, Remus. This is still the girl who ruined our plan, remember." 

"But such an attractive girl," Sirius said, glancing over at Lily himself. "Besides, we can always demand a rematch. They can't have eaten all those sweets already." 

Evidently their staring had attracted Lily's attention, because she turned and looked directly at them. Peter immediately scowled and looked away, as did Remus, though Remus was still smiling. Sirius grinned broadly at Lily and waved. James simply met her gaze, silently acknowledging that yes, he'd been watching her, what of it? 

Lily's eyes drifted over the four of them; her eyes fell on James in particular, and she smiled wryly. She then gathered her things and left the table. James watched as she left the Great Hall, but she didn't look back. The moment she was out of sight, Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "Did you see that smile? You're a lucky dog, James." 

"What are you talking about?" James asked. 

"She wants you to follow her, of course." 

"Are you mental? She didn't even say anything." Peter's voice was surly. 

"She didn't have to," Sirius said in a pompous _I know more than you do_ sort of voice. "It was written all over her. Girls never come out and say things, it's all in the body language. Trust me, James. She wants you to go after her." 

"Does she, now," James said, considering this. The idea was rather appealing, he had to admit. "She was holding a book; she might be heading for the Library." 

"Go on, James, follow her," Remus said encouragingly. "You can catch us up back at the Tower." 

"Assuming you don't have better things to do," Sirius smirked. 

Peter scowled at each of them in turn. "That's right, encourage him to consort with the enemy. Some friends you are." 

James grinned at them and left the table, walking quickly out of the Great Hall. From behind he could hear Sirius and Peter arguing, and Remus' attempts to make peace between them. He wasn't worried; Peter was just out of sorts because of the poker match. Peter hated losing, but he'd get over it soon enough. 

James turned in the direction of the Library, musing. It'd be nice to have a flame all his friends liked, for once. His last had been Emily O'Meara; she played Keeper on the Hufflepuff team, and was rather quiet unless Quidditch was being discussed. James hadn't minded that, but Sirius and Peter had dismissed her as "boring." James had liked Emily, but eventually it _had_ gotten boring not having anything in common except Quidditch. It made all their conversations rather predictable. 

Somehow he didn't think that would be a problem with Lily; he might not know her well, but she'd already shown herself to be anything but predictable. It was interesting, and extremely attractive. 

James smiled inwardly at the thought. It'd become a habit to protest that he didn't have time for a girlfriend, particularly since Gwen had started showing an interest in him. But Remus and Sirius were right: if he wanted to make time for a girl, he probably could. He'd see Lily and see how it went. If time was as short as it'd been last time he'd tried dating a girl, he'd break it off. Somehow he didn't think Lily would be hurt by that; she was a prefect herself, and just as busy as he was. Surely she understood about time constraints. And she certainly was pretty. And witty, and intelligent, and he could just imagine what those eyes would look like if he kissed her... 

James' smile broadened. He was beginning to quite like the idea. 

By this point he'd reached the Library. Sure enough, Lily was standing by one of the shelves in the corner, a small frown creasing her brows as she scanned a row of books. James walked over and joined her. "You look frustrated. What are you looking for?" 

Lily continued her perusal of the shelves as she answered. "Bane of the MacBoons by Porpentina Scamander. I need it for my Quintaped essay, and I can't find it anywhere." 

James leaned back against a nearby table. "That's because Remus and I have been using it, actually. I've got it in the Tower." 

Lily frowned, looking at him for the first time. "You have it?" 

"I'm afraid so," he said, apologetic. 

"Bother. I don't suppose you'd be willing to let me borrow it, would you?" 

"'Course. Just remind me when we get back to the Tower." 

Her face brightened, and she smiled. "Thanks, I'd appreciate it." She dropped her books on the table and opened one of them, flipping through the pages in a concentrated manner. 

James found his mind suddenly, irritatingly blank. The conversation seemed to have ended, and that wouldn't do at all. He pulled up a chair and sat down, trying to stay casual. "So what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" 

She raised an eyebrow; James decided that he'd never seen anyone convey so much sarcasm with a single gesture, which was something considering that he knew Peter. "I thought I'd do some revising. I realize that's terribly revolutionary of me, but it seemed a good idea at the time." 

James grinned ruefully. "All right, it was a daft question. What are you working on?" 

"Arithmancy. I need to write up a set of charts for my extended family, then use it to describe our personality types and how we all get along." 

"Thrilling," James said with heavy irony. He _hated_ numbers. 

Lily was still leafing through pages. "Oh, it's more interesting than you'd think. According to this, my sister is a three, which means that she should be artistic and easygoing. It'll be fun asking Professor Point to explain how Petunia can be a three and also be a nosy shrew who's only impressed by art if it's worth a lot of money." 

James chuckled. "I take it you don't get along with your sister." 

Lily looked up briefly and smiled. "Not in the least." 

She turned her attention back to the textbook, finally locating the page she wanted and moving a finger down a paragraph. James tried to think of something else to say. "So according to your arithmancy charts, what am I?" 

She shot him a quizzical look, then pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and did a few calculations. "A seven," she said after a moment. "That means you're perceptive and enjoy a challenge." 

James rather liked the sound of that. "How about you then?" 

Lily stared at him with a sudden air of suspicion. "Are you chatting me up?" she asked abruptly. 

He shrugged, putting on his most innocuous grin. "Maybe." 

Lily's eyes narrowed. "Then let me set you straight." She leaned forward, hands on the table, expression firm. "I am not impressed by you. You're a good Quidditch player and a good student, and yes your pranks are very funny, but you're also the lout who's ignored his prefect duties all year in favor of running around playing silly games. You seem a decent enough sort, but I have no interest in going out with you." 

James was stunned. "But…" He grasped for something, anything to say. "You helped me get out of trouble before." 

"I wasn't helping to keep you out of trouble, I was trying to get Snape _in_to trouble. A subtle but significant difference." She picked up her books and eyed him coolly. "It's not that I have anything against you, but I'm rather busy, so if all you wanted was to chat me up, you're wasting both of our time. Now if you don't mind, I really need to get to work. Good luck in the match against Ravenclaw this weekend," she added, almost as an afterthought, before turning and walking away. 

James stared after her. Somehow the idea of her turning him down hadn't even occurred to him. 

But there at was. Lily had turned him down. Thoroughly, in fact. 

James left the Library and walked quickly back to Gryffindor Tower, completely nonplussed. He hadn't managed to sort himself out by the time he arrived; it took ten minutes to remember that the new password was "Poppycock." He wandered up to the sixth-year boys' room in a daze. Sirius was sprawled on a bunk, and looked up with an expectant expression as his best friend entered the room. "How'd it go?" 

James fell back on his bunk and covered his face with a pillow. "I don't want to talk about it," he said, voice muffled. 

Astonishment was written all over Sirius' voice as he exclaimed, "Don't tell me she turned you down!" 

James removed the pillow and glowered at his friend. "I said I don't want to talk about it." 

"She _did!_" Sirius looked as though he couldn't decide whether to be impressed or angry on his friend's behalf. 

"Who did what?" Remus asked, stepping into the room, followed by Peter. 

"Lily Evans turned down James." 

"She _what!_" Peter exclaimed, incredulous. 

"Would you all _please_ just drop it?" James asked, petulant. 

"But that's amazing," Remus said, completely ignoring this. "Nobody's _ever_ turned down James." 

"What'd she say?" Peter wanted to know. 

"What'd _you_ say?" Sirius demanded. 

"How many times do I have to say that I don't want to talk about Lily Evans before it gets through your thick skulls?" James snapped. 

Even Sirius looked a bit taken aback. There was a long moment of silence. Then Peter flopped down on his own bunk. "Well, what's the fuss? You'd never even noticed her until last week. If she won't go out with you, it's her loss." He grinned suddenly. "Sorry, did I say loss? Her good luck, I mean." 

James lobbed a pillow at Peter, while Sirius and Remus laughed. Sirius jumped onto James' bunk. "Yeah, buck up, mate. There's other fish in the sea." 

"Why would he want to date a fish?" Remus wondered. 

"Maybe if we found a particularly attractive mackerel..." Peter sniggered. 

"Sod off, both of you," Sirius said, obviously stifling a grin. "Besides, the only fish worthy of our James is the giant squid. You could try for the mackerel though, Peter." 

James listened to his friends bicker and tease each other, and smiled despite himself. They were right, of course. It wasn't important. He barely knew Lily, hadn't really even spoken to her until a few days ago. He'd forget about her in a week. 

At least, he hoped he would. 

ashfae@technicaldetails.org   
http://www.ashfae.net 


	5. Chapter Five

A week passed. Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw, but only barely; the final score was 170 to 130. Kit berated his team thoroughly for putting all the pressure on their poor Seeker (namely, Kit) and doubled the number of practices. The team took this fairly well, though Rhys and Cassie went above and beyond the call of duty by throwing things at their teammates in the halls, in the interests of 'improving general awareness and concentration.' James would have preferred to not have to duck flying objects, but years of being friends with Sirius had made such chaos practically commonplace. Truthfully, he was glad for the distraction of Quidditch; he'd been in a foul mood ever since the incident in the library. He tried not to be upset or disappointed that Lily was so obviously uninterested in him, but it was difficult, particularly since he still caught himself looking for her in the Great Hall or in class. 

It didn't help that Gwen Delacroix had taken Ravenclaw's defeat badly, and as a result was hounding James more than ever. "It makes sense, in a warped sort of way, Remus said as James ducked under a desk in the library to avoid being seen by the determined girl. "She didn't capture the Snitch, so she's going to capture you instead." 

"Why _me_?" James groaned from his hiding place. "There's other boys on the team." 

"But Kit's been with Mariah King for ages," Peter pointed out. "And everyone knows that Rhys and Cassie are snogging, even if they say they aren't." 

"Well, what about Jonathan?" 

"Probably too young for her," Remus mused. Jonathan was a fourth-year. "Gwen's the fussy type." 

"I'm flattered, really," James said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe if we give him an aging potion she'd stalk him instead. Is it safe for me to come out yet?" 

"It's all clear," Peter reassured him. "And I still say we should whip up a love potion to make her fall for me." 

Remus grinned across the table as James reclaimed his seat by Peter. "You're welcome to try anytime, mate. Warn us first, so that we can be far away when it explodes." 

"Sod off and die, Remus." 

"We could make a love potion, though," Sirius said consideringly. "It'd be dead useful. Gwen would fall for Peter, Tamatha Davis would go for Remus, Lily Evans would swoon over James--" 

James scowled. "The next person who mentions Lily Evans is getting hexed. I'm not kidding." 

Sirius continued without missing a beat. "--we could slip some to James' fan club and convince them to be the Sirius Black fan club instead--" 

Peter was almost choking with laughter. "You wish, Padfoot." 

"Damn straight I do, Wormtail." 

"No love potions," James said firmly. "We wouldn't get away with that one. You know how McGonagall feels about love potions, she wouldn't rest until she'd found the culprits. Which wouldn't be hard, given that all the girls in Hogwarts would suddenly be after us." 

"You mean they aren't already?" 

"You should be so lucky, Sirius." 

"You're no fun at all, James," Sirius complained. 

"And doing detention every week for the rest of the year would be fun?" James retorted. Truth be told, the idea of making a love potion bothered him. It was one thing to steal Snape's underwear or dye the Quidditch pitch blue; it was quite another to use magic to control someone's thoughts or feelings. That wouldn't be a prank, it'd be manipulation, and he didn't want to use anyone like that. Particularly not Lily Evans. 

"I'd rather get back to exploring," Remus said, smoothly pushing aside the question of love potions. "We haven't done much of that this year, and there's loads of places we haven't been yet." 

"Amen to that," Peter agreed fervently. "I'm sure there's a passage behind that statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor. I can feel a breeze whenever I'm near it, it's impossible to miss when you're rat-sized. But I still don't know how to open it. You prats could help me figure it out, if you'd ever stop mooning over girls." 

"That's rich coming from you," Sirius retorted. "You're the one who keeps bringing up Gwendolyn Delacroix." 

Peter waved a hand dismissively. "My point is that you lot always send me to explore the castle by myself. Which makes sense, as a rat is rather less conspicuous than a dog or a bloody great stag, but you could at least make yourselves useful by helping me make sense of what I find." 

"The statue of the one-eyed witch," James repeated, picturing it in his head. "What have you tried?" 

"_Everything_," Peter groaned, laying his arms on the table and resting his head on them. "I've poked and prodded every inch of the bloody thing, but no luck yet. I think this one wants a password." 

"I'll help with that," Remus offered. "If nothing else we can sit in front of it for a week talking. Sooner or later we'll find the right word." 

"Are you mad? Filch would catch us for sure." 

"Not if we're under the Invisibility Cloak." 

Peter chuckled at that. "We could pretend to be ghosts," he suggested, eyes glinting. "The disembodied voices on the third floor. It'd probably drive the real ghosts wild, wondering where we'd come from. Would you loan us the Cloak, James?" 

"Well, let's see. You want it in order to perplex Filch, terrify the house ghosts, and sneak out of the castle if at all possible." James grinned broadly. "With such worthy goals in mind, how can I possibly refuse?" 

"Know what we should do?" Sirius said suddenly. "We should pass on our knowledge to other worthy mischief-makers." 

They all considered this for a minute. "How?" Remus wanted to know. 

"Dunno. A list of all the things we've discovered, at least. Future miscreants might not have our advantages; we wouldn't know half as much as we do if we hadn't been able to follow Filch around in James' cloak. It'd be a shame if everything we've found out was forgotten after we left. We could write it down in a book, or a map, or something." 

The four boys looked at each other. "A map," Remus mused. 

"It's brilliant!" Peter said with enthusiasm. "We could show all the secret passages and how to get into them." 

Remus leaned forward. "We could enchant the paper so that you have to say a password to look at it; I know a charm for that." 

Sirius' eyes glinted. "Better, we could set it up to insult anyone who isn't supposed to be looking at it." 

"A marauder's map," James said, thinking hard. The possibilities were overwhelming. 

"It's brilliant," Peter said again, firmly. "We should get on it right away." 

"Right," Sirius agreed. "Peter, you've got the best memory of any of us, so you make up a list of all the passages we've found and how to work them. James, you do some research into how we can enchant the thing. Remus, you'd better look for charms that'll help protect the map once we've made it." 

"What about you?" James wanted to know. 

Sirius began gathering his things together hurriedly. "I've got to send an owl." 

"An _owl?_" Peter sounded incredulous. "Now?" 

"Yes, now. I'll meet you later. Get to work!" 

He sprang out of his seat and bolted from the library, earning himself a stern glare from Madam Pince. James, Remus, and Peter exchanged glances. "What d'you reckon he's up to?" Peter wondered. 

"Nothing good, I'm sure," Remus said. "Here, hand me some parchment and I'll practice that Secrecy Charm, then you can write up that list. If you write it on any scrap of paper, Merlin only knows what prat might find it and steal our secrets." 

*

Sirius didn't reappear until dinner that evening, and he was completely closemouthed about what he was up to; no matter what means they used to pester him for information, the best they managed to get out of him was an anticipatory smile and the words, "You'll see." While the three of them talked about the map and all its possibilities, Sirius stared out the window as though waiting for something, only occassionally offering up suggestions. 

Sirius' preoccupation went unexplained until four days later, when a large screech owl dropped a thick package into Sirius' scrambled eggs at breakfast. A smaller tawny owl dropped an envelope, which floated down until it rested on the package. Sirius let out a whoop of excitement and tore open the letter, his eyes glinting. James peered over Sirius' shoulder; Remus and Peter leaned across the table, and all four boys read the paper at the same time. 

_Sirius-- _

Here's the book you wanted. Sorry for the delay; couldn't remember where I'd left it, then found I was using it to prop up a table leg. The thing you want is on page eighty-four. Good luck getting the formula to work properly; I never managed it, you'll see why. I want to hear all about this map. See if you can find a copy of Singularly Slippery Spells_ by Maxmillian Minchin, there's a number of charms in there you might find useful. (I'd loan you mine, but it's under the other table leg) _

--A.B. 

P.S. Send the book back as soon as you're done, my table's lopsided without it; none of my other books are the right size, and it's damned hard to measure out Streeler venom on an unbalanced surface. 

"Who's A.B.?" Remus asked at once. 

"What's on page eighty-four?" James wanted to know. 

"What's he doing with Streeler venom?" Peter demanded. 

Sirius ignored all of them, instead grabbing at the package and ripping the brown paper off. Inside was a book. Sirius looked delighted; the other three boys eyed it warily. The book was very thick, and bound in black leather. James shivered despite himself. Six years at Hogwarts is enough to harden anyone's spine, and it was hard to get under James' skin in any case, but something about this book was downright _creepy_. 

"Sirius," Remus said, voice stern. "Who'd you borrow this from? It looks like a book of dark magic." 

"Oh, it is," Sirius said airily. 

A long moment of silence followed this pronouncement. "Dark magic?" James asked finally. "What exactly is this?" 

"_Mysterious Mixes and Uncanny Compounds!_" Sirius intoned in his lowest, spookiest voice, showing them the spine of the book; sure enough, Mysterious Mixes and Uncanny Compounds was written in dull bronze letters on the heavy leather cover. Sirius grinned at their wary expressions. "It's not serious dark magic, just a bit dodgy. I wrote to my uncle Alioth to ask if I could have it for a bit." 

James, who had known Sirius longer than the other two and had more experience with the other boy's family, groaned. Remus and Peter looked confused, so James explained. "Alioth's the black sheep of Sirius' family. I met him when I stayed with the Blacks for the summer holidays before coming to Hogwarts. You wouldn't believe how much trouble he got us into; if my father knew about half the things the three of us got up to, I'd never be allowed to visit Sirius again." 

"He's got a _wicked_ sense of humor," Sirius said with pride. "He was in Slytherin, but we try not to hold that against him. He was a holy terror when he went here; to hear him tell it, he holds the record for sneaking into the Restricted Section of the library. He knows all sorts of dark magic. Works for the Gringotts in Glasgow, setting nasty curses on some of the upper vaults." 

Peter was looking impressed. "And he loaned you this?" 

"Obviously. I knew he would, our map is exactly the sort of thing he'd come up with." Sirius was flipping through the pages, presumably looking for page eighty-four. "Here, this is what we want: Reality Reflecting Ink. Alioth told me about it once." 

"What's it do?" James asked. 

"It's a formula to mix up a particular type of ink. Whatever's written in it changes to reflect what's happening in reality around it. For example, if you used it to write out a list of items resting on a table and then took one of the items off the table, it'd disappear from the list as well. " 

James was perplexed. "But that's not so unusual. There's other charms and objects that can do that sort of thing. Why do we need this one?" 

Sirius smirked. "Because this one can keep track of people. That's what's unusual about it; usually semi-intelligent inks only track inanimate objects. But if we use this ink to draw the map, then the map will show what's actually going on at Hogwarts." He looked at their blank, suspicious expressions and sighed. "_Think_ about it, mates. We'd be able to tell where all the teachers were. If we could see them coming, we'd _never_ get caught at anything." 

Peter was amazed. "_Ink_ can do that? How does it know?" 

"Beats me. Probably it's got a bit of a mind of it's own; that'd explain why it's dark magic. Most things that can think for themselves are." 

Remus looked dubious. "Can we trust it?" 

Sirius snorted. "It's just ink, Remus." 

"Yes, but it's..." Remus floundered for words, then smiled helplessly. "It's _evil_ ink!" 

As James and Peter dissolved into laughter, Sirius clouted Remus on the side of the head. "It is not, idiot. Like I said, this isn't really dark magic; just dodgy. And it's not as though we're going to use it for anything wrong." 

"Oh, no," James said dryly. "We're just going to use it to make a map that will show anyone who reads it how best to break school rules and not get caught, thereby corrupting entire future generations of Hogwarts students by turning them into mischief-makers." 

"Practically our civic duty then." Peter grinned. "If we pull this off, we should all get medals." 

"Somehow I doubt the teachers would agree with you." Remus leaned over and grabbed the letter out of Sirius' hands and examined it. "Why does he say it won't work, though?" 

"Who knows?" Sirius shrugged. "Probably he just didn't mix it properly. I'm telling you mates, this is it. It'll be brilliant." 

James meanwhile had grabbed the book, and was going through the list of ingredients. It was written in small crabbed letters, covered a page and a half, and had tiny instructions scribbled in the margins. "To make a cauldron of ink," he mumbled under his breath, reading the bizarre script with difficulty, "mix together one cup shredded flutterby roots, three tablespoons diluted Bundimun secretion, ten hairs from an Abyssinian tomcat (Persian acceptable in a pinch), three sets of hameh wings--" He stopped. "What's a hameh?" 

"Type of bird," Peter said. "Arabic. Chases around murderers and drinks their blood. Technically a dark creature, but mostly it's just annoying." 

James continued reading. "One handful of feverfew (picked during a half-moon and boiled in oil for three days), six drops molasses, half a pint of ink from a giant squid--" 

Remus was shaking his head in disbelief. "Sirius, how exactly do you intend to get your hands on all these ingredients? We won't be finding Hameh wings anywhere outside of Knockturn Alley, and I doubt the giant squid will just hand us a bucket of ink." 

Sirius took the book back from James and glanced over the list, his brow furrowing. "Some of this we can find in the school cabinets," he said finally. "And MacCavity's bound to have some of the stranger things hidden away in his office." 

"If you think for one minute that we're going to break into _MacCavity's_ office--" James started. Professor Ebon MacCavity was the Potions Master, and very few students were willing to trifle with him. It was rumored that he was a descendent of the Bloody Baron; it was certainly true that he was one of the only people the Bloody Baron treated with respect. He had dark skin and a bald head, and his eyes were almost entirely drained of color, which gave him a blank, crazed expression. Even on ordinary days he looked as though he'd like nothing better than to tear his students limb from limb. He almost never spoke, which somehow made him even more terrifying. Not even Sirius messed about in MacCavity's class. 

But now Sirius seemed to think that even facing MacCavity's wrath was worth the risk. "I'll do that if you're squeamish, my Potions marks are better than yours anyway. As for the hameh wings, why not go to Knockturn Alley? You live in London, Peter; you could go at Christmas." 

"Knockturn Alley?" Peter said in disbelief. "By myself? Not on your life. I've heard about the things they sell in there. I like my eyeballs and fingernails right where they are, thank you." 

Sirius grinned. "Only teasing, Wormtail. I'll ask Alioth to go for us. You'll all have to help chip in, mind; we won't be gathering together this lot cheaply." 

"Or quickly," Remus pointed out; he was glancing over Sirius' shoulder at the list. "This will take months to put together. Are you sure it's worth it? Just for the possibility of being able to tell where all the teachers are at any given moment?" 

The three boys looked at him. 

"All right, that was a daft question." Remus grinned. "Where do we begin?" 

Sirius and Peter started arguing about the best way to get ink from the giant squid, and James smiled. He was getting to like the idea of an enchanted map more and more, and it was fun to have a project all four of them could be involved with. It was unlikely that he'd have any free time for a while, between the map, homework, and Quidditch, but that was all right. James liked to keep busy, particularly when he had other things he'd rather not be thinking about. And if the ink worked, he'd have a much easier time avoiding Gwendolyn Delacroix. All in all, things were looking up. 

"But it's obvious how we convince the giant squid to help," Sirius stated. "We just send James down to convince it. Weren't we saying just the other day that he should have a go at dating fish?" 

"A squid isn't a fish, you git. It's a cephalopod," Peter corrected. 

"Even so, we could feed James some gillyweed and send him down with a dozen roses..." 

James groaned. Well, mostly things were looking up. 

* * *

Brief notes: 

Alioth is the name of one of the stars in the constellation Ursa Major, the Great Bear. The Arabic name for Alioth is Al-Jawn, which means "the black horse." It seemed appropriate somehow for the black dog to have an uncle named the black horse. 

A hameh really is a mythological bird. When someone is murdered, the hameh springs forth from the blood of the victim and chases the attacker. It doesn't rest until it has drained the murderer of his own blood, whereupon the hameh flies to the land of the dead and announces that the original victim has been avenged. It's something like an Arabic version of the Furies. For some reason I find this funny. 

Speaking of funny, why yes, Ebon MacCavity _is_ a dark wizard; why do you ask? *gryn* Fun to have or two blatantly obvious ones. But more importantly, yes, his name is taken from T.S. Eliot's Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, as are the names of several other teachers you'll run into along the line. 

Apologies for the Lack O'Lily action in this one. I guarantee, it's the last chapter where that will be a problem. *wicked gryn* 

ashfae@technicaldetails.org   
http://www.ashfae.net 


	6. Chapter Six

Days turned into weeks, and autumn into winter. Preparations for the Reality-Reflecting Ink went well, aside from one or two minor mishaps such as Sirius getting caught sneaking around the edge of the Forbidden Forest during the quarter-moon to pick feverfew. Fortunately, the person who caught him was Hagrid. Sirius managed to avoid detention by swearing he'd simply been curious about the rumors of a colony of giant spiders living in the forest. Hagrid nervously declared this to be rubbish, but Sirius used the distraction to deflect the conversation towards interesting monsters, and within minutes Hagrid forgot that Sirius was out of bounds. 

"I'll have to thank Bastian for telling me that rumor," Sirius said afterwards, in the Gryffindor common room. "You don't suppose it's true, do you?" 

"Giant spiders?" Peter said, with utmost skepticism. "What would giant spiders be doing in the Forbidden Forest?" 

"Whatever they want, I'd imagine. And why not?" Remus wanted to know. "I wouldn't be surprised by anything we found living in that place." 

James privately doubted that there was such a colony, but arguing over whether or not it existed made for an interesting evening, particularly after Remus suggested that the spiders had a school of their own deep in the heart of the forest, where they learned arachnid-style wizardry. The mental image of hundreds of spiders in Hogwarts-style robes learning to turn cobwebs into compasses made all four boys laugh so loudly that a seventh-year prefect threw a cushion at them and threatened to take away points if they didn't shut up. 

As winter drew closer, so did the Christmas holidays. Unforunately, before the holidays came midyear exams, and classes became more and more difficult every day. Even talk of the map was shelved in favour of revising. Peter practiced his worst subject, Transfiguration, for hours on end, swearing non-stop under his breath as he changed umbrellas into flamingoes and back. Remus threatened to throw his Potions text through the window--and actually did, after his Congeniality Potion exploded in class. Sirius barely did any revising; he preferred to do all his work at the last possible minute. This earned him dark looks from classmates who knew that Sirius would still get top marks despite an apparent lack of effort. Instead, he kept busy coming up with tricky lesson plans for the Defense Against the Dark Arts, which he was still helping to teach, and hexing his students outside of class to make sure they'd been practicing curse-blocking. James studied until he felt his eyeballs would shrivel up, then set about organizing a massive Gryffindor-Hufflepuff snowball fight for the last day of term so that they'd all have something to look forward to after exams. 

Two weeks before the holidays began, an announcement was made which altered James' view of them. It occurred during Transfiguration; Professor McGonagall had been telling an attentive class about the dangers and difficulties of human Transfiguration, and how this differed from the Animagus transformation. That is, most of the class was attentive; Remus was half-asleep at his desk, Sirius was sketching pictures of dragons with very large teeth in the corner of his textbook, and James and Peter were taking bets on what would be served for dinner. It wasn't until Professor McGonagall transformed Sirius' quill into a haddock that the boys realized the discussion had moved away from classwork. The class laughed at Sirius' attempts to hold on to his quill-turned-fish, until Professor McGonagall fixed them all with a stern glare. 

"In one week I will pass around the sign-up sheet for those students who wish to remain at Hogwarts over the holidays," she announced crisply. "Before making your decision, you should all be aware that the town of Hogsmeade hosts an annual Midwinter Dance in the week before Christmas. Any students fifth year and above who are staying in the area are welcome to attend if they wish, so long as they behave themselves in a manner befitting the dignity of Hogwarts School." 

She frowned directly at Sirius as she said this, but he only shrugged and looked innocent. James grinned to himself, remembering that Sirius had stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas the previous year. He vowed to ask Sirius exactly what had happened at the last dance to make McGonagall wear that expression; it must have been quite an event, for her to look so stern. 

Professor McGonagall continued. "The dance will take place on the twenty-second of December; a sign-up sheet will be posted in your common rooms. Dismissed." 

"Honestly," Sirius declared as they left the classroom. "McGonagall could make Christmas itself sound dull. Do you think she's _ever_ let herself have any fun at all?" 

"I don't think 'fun' is in her vocabulary," Remus replied. "No one who knows about fun could possibly be cruel enough to assign us this essay." 

"That's rich coming from you," Sirius retorted. "You'll be in the library in an hour working on it, you always are. Nobody in class gets to work on their essays as fast as you do." 

Remus glared back. "You know perfectly well that's because I hate writing them and try to get them out of the way as quickly as possible. Writing a three-scroll essay about how to transfigure a hat-rack into an ostrich doesn't teach us half so much as just doing it, so what's the point? It's a complete waste of time." 

"You're still an eager beaver," Sirius said airily. "What's the difference if it gets done today or tomorrow, so long as it's in on time in the end?" 

"You're awfully quiet, Doctor Wormtail," James said hastily, sensing an oncoming argument and hoping to change the subject. "What's on your mind?" 

Peter had been scowling, completely oblivious to the ongoing conversation; but he looked up when James said his nickname. "It can't be Christmas already," he moaned. "I haven't even thought about presents." 

Sirius smirked, jumping easily to this new topic. "Should've been picking 'em out last Hogsmeade weekend instead of wasting time in Honeyduke's." 

"Who are you to talk?" Remus pointed out. "You were with him. You spent three hours rooting through that gigantic barrel of Every Flavour Beans looking for vomit-flavoured ones, remember?" 

"Doesn't count; I need those for a present." 

"You _want_ vomit-flavoured Beans?" James asked; he'd missed that Hogsmeade weekend because of Quidditch practice. "Who on earth for?" 

"My cousin. I hate the prat, but Mum said that if I didn't get him a present I'd be eating nothing but haggis for the entire holiday. I thought I'd give him a bunch of really nasty Beans." 

"Clever," Remus allowed. "He'd never be able to prove it was deliberate." 

Sirius' answering smirk was positively wicked. "And if I'm lucky they'll put him off food before he realizes what's up, and I'll get his share of the turkey." 

"That's well and good Sirius, but it doesn't help _me_ at all," Peter returned. "I can't very well give my mum Every Flavour Beans and call it a present, not unless I want coal for Christmas supper." 

"We could sneak in to Hogsmeade this weekend," James said thoughtfully. "I haven't done any Christmas shopping either. What do you lot have planned for the holidays?" 

"Back home to London," Peter answered, looking mournful. "It's our turn to host the family gathering this year, so all the relatives will be flocking in to stay with us. It wouldn't be so bad if I had some cousins, but it's all batty great-aunts who pinch my cheek and crotchety old uncles who smell like cabbage. It's the same nightmare every year." 

"We know," Remus retorted. "You complain about it every year. I half expect you to run off to Greenland to get away from them, the way you whinge on and on. If it's that much of a chore, why not do something else?" 

"I can't, Mum would never forgive me. And then she'd rail on to Dad about it and he'd never forgive me either." 

Sirius sniggered. "Your own fault for being a mummy's boy." 

Peter glared. "Where are you lot going, then?" 

"Nowhere," Remus said, too lightly. "While you prats are off being tortured by your relatives, I'll be blissfully safe here at school, playing games with the ghosts and sneaking into Hogsmeade every night to go to the pub. Bet I find six new secret passages by the time you get back." 

James felt a sudden pang of sympathy; he wasn't at all fooled by the other boy's easy words. Remus' parents were supportive, but couldn't help being afraid of his transformations. Worse, he had an eight-year-old sister who didn't believe that her brother's wolf form was dangerous; one of Remus' worst nightmares was that Rahne would break into the cellar he was locked in during the full moon. All in all, things were so tense whenever he was at home that he'd given up going back for Christmas, preferring not to strain his relationship with his family further than was necessary. 

"Lucky git," Peter said to Remus, envy written in the words. "If I'm not home for Christmas, Mum will never let me hear the end of it. I wish I were staying here; I bet Hogwarts is brilliant with all the students gone. The holidays are going to be horrendously dull, they always are." 

"If you want some excitement, you could always get those hameh wings for us while you're in London," Sirius said slyly. "We still need them for the Reality-Reflecting Ink." 

Peter glared at the other boy. "Just go to Knockturn Alley and buy hameh wings. Oh, of course, that'd be no trouble at all. I'd be happy to risk life and limb for the sake of some dodgy ink. Do let me know if there's anything else I can help you with, so I won't miss the opportunity to tell you to sod off." 

"Coward." 

"Prat." 

"Sod off, both of you," James said. "Besides, Sirius, I thought your uncle said he'd pick up those wings for us?" 

"He did," Sirius admitted. "But he won't be in London again until February, and I hate waiting." 

"I'm sure you'll manage somehow," Remus said in his driest voice. "What are you doing for the holidays?" 

Sirius grinned in obvious anticipation. "The usual family gathering for Christmas, and then Greece directly afterwards. My parents want to see the Labyrinth, so I'm going to tag along and see if I can find some pretty sirens to sing to me." 

"Capital," James said. "If we're lucky, perhaps you'll get gored by a minotaur." 

"In your dreams, Hornhead." 

"I'd like to go Greece," Peter said enviously. "They really know numbers there." 

"I'll bring you back an abacus," Sirius promised. "Poppycock." 

This was still the Fat Lady's password to Gryffindor Tower. The four boys climbed through the portrait hole to find the common room largely deserted, aside from a few second-years playing Exploding Snap by the fire. Remus walked to a nearby table and dropped his books onto it. "What about you, James?" he asked, as the other boys joined him. "Staying or going?" 

James flung himself into one of the cushioned armchairs. "Staying." 

"Bet I know why," Sirius said immediately, ignoring the chairs in favor of sitting on the table. 

James blinked, nonplussed. He was staying because he knew things would be easier for Remus if one of them were there to keep him company; there was a full moon right after Christmas. But this wasn't the sort of thing they usually mentioned aloud, particularly not in front of Remus himself, so what was Sirius playing at? "Why, then?" 

The other boy broke into a smirk. "You want to ask Lily Evans to that dance." 

To his horror, James felt his face redden. "I do not!" he retorted, but it was too late. All three boys were now staring at him; Remus was wearing the same knowing grin as Sirius, and Peter looked amazed. 

"You're not still hung up on Evans?" Peter asked. "I thought she turned you down." 

"She did not," James said defensively; he didn't need to be good at Divination to see his immediate future was now filled with unavoidable teasing and that he might as well accept his fate. He sighed and admitted, "She blew me off before I could give her the chance to turn me down." 

"That's worse," Remus said, wincing in sympathy. 

"I thought so." 

"But you know what they say," Sirius said sagely. 

James glowered at him. "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again?" he asked sarcastically. 

"Of course not." 

"All's fair in love and war?" Peter offered. 

"Closer, but no." 

"What then?" Remus asked. 

Sirius grinned broadly. "That any woman who can bluff Peter at poker is worth keeping an eye on, and therefore James should ask Evans to the dance." 

"Since when do they say that?" James demanded. 

"Since I said it just now. You should have another go, James. I still think she fancies you." 

James pretended to lob one of his textbooks at Sirius. "Why would I voluntarily ask a girl who doesn't like me to go to a dance I don't even want to go to? There are much quicker ways to make a prat out of myself." 

"Quicker maybe, but not as much fun," Peter said, grinning. "I've seen you dance. Definitely pratlike." 

"Thanks _so_ much, Peter." 

"But really, your lack of dancing ability aside, why not go, James?" Sirius said. "It's not so bad. Remus and I went last year, while you were off touring France with your father and Peter was trapped with the Pettigrew clan. Remember, Remus? You went with that blonde Ravenclaw witch, whatsername--" 

"Amanda," Remus supplied. "And you took Demeter Demaris but practically ignored her all night in order to pull that prank with the musicians, and by the end of the evening she was threatening to hex your--" 

"Yes, well, up until that point it was fun," Sirius said hastily. "Good food, attractive girls everywhere, more good food, and the music wasn't bad either. So why not go, James? Just make sure not to take Demaris and you should be fine." 

"What for? There's nobody I'd want to go with." 

"Not even Lily Evans?" Peter asked slyly. 

James scowled and didn't answer. 

"Give it another go," Remus advised. "Maybe she didn't mean it." 

"You weren't there to hear her," James said in a sour voice. "She made her lack of interest perfectly clear, believe me." 

"And you're going to let a little thing like that stop you?" Sirius said, mock-incredulous. 

James smiled despite himself. "What am I supposed to do, just pick her up and carry her off?" 

"Ah, the caveman approach," Peter said, snickering. "A tried and true method. Been used for generations." 

"Somehow I don't think she'd take too well to that. And who says I want to go to this bloody dance anyway?" 

"I do," Sirius said. "Because I've been your best mate since we were seven and know what's good for you. Besides, you obviously weren't listening when I mentioned the food." 

"That's because I was wondering what you did to the musicians." James looked over at Remus. "What did he do, anyway?" 

Remus smiled. "I'm sworn to silence." 

"You helped, didn't you," Peter guessed. 

"Of course." Remus grinned broadly. "But I managed my part without alienating my partner in the process, thank you very much. That was a fun night." 

"Rub it in, why don't you," Sirius grumbled. 

"Not my fault you haven't any sense of priority. Why you abandoned a fit girl like Demaris in order to play yet another prank is beyond me." 

Sirius grinned. "Because it was a _good_ one." 

James threw up his hands. "You're both hopeless. And I will get the whole story sooner or later, see if I don't." 

Remus grinned broadly. "Tell you what. I'll reveal the whole, unvarnished story, complete with a description of Sirius wearing the punch bowl on his head--" 

"_Remus!_" Sirius protested. "Don't you _dare!_" 

Remus continued unabated, ignoring the interruption. "--if you go to the dance this year." 

"Merlin, Moony, not you too," James groaned. "Why are you so keen for me to go to this dance?" 

"Because I'd like to go, and it's more fun with a group," Remus said easily. "If we're both going to be here, we might as well. Besides, you obviously still have a flame for Lily, so why not have another try at her? The worst she can do is say no, and you lived through that once already." 

"Or maybe she'll turn me into a frog," James retorted grumpily. "Anyway, what about you? Where are you going to find a partner?" 

"Maybe Tamatha Davis will be around?" Peter said slyly. 

Remus smiled at the mention of his own Hufflepuff crush. "Maybe. Come on, James. What's the point in sitting around in the common room over the holidays when we could be out somewhere?" 

James flung up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll swallow my pride and give Lily Evans another chance to humiliate me. Now can we _please_ talk about something else? Here, we can't do much else with the Reality Reflecting Ink until we get those hameh wings, but what else can we do to work on this map we're all so keen on? We'll have time to think about that again once exams are over." 

From there conversation digressed into the map and the various charms they were planning to try on it, and Remus' discovery of a new passageway behind a tapestry by the marble staircase on the main floor. It led directly into the Ancient Runes classroom, and they were trying to figure out the best way to make use of it. 

Sirius suddenly nudged James hard in the ribs. When James glared at him, Sirius gestured with his head. James turned to see Lily Evans sprawled on a sofa on the other side of the common room; they'd been so involved in plotting that he hadn't noticed her arrive. Sirius nudged James again; the motion was plainly meant to indicate that this was James' chance, and if he didn't take it Sirius would never let him live it down. 

James scowled and cuffed Sirius on the shoulder, but walked towards Lily, resigning himself to his fate. Behind him, Remus began to coerce Sirius and Peter into coming to have a look at the newly-discovered secret passage. James made a silent note to thank Remus later; asking Lily to the dance would be difficult enough without his friends snickering at him from across the room. 

The few steps across the common room seemed to take forever, but oddly, the closer he got to his goal, the less resentful he felt. Sirius, Remus, and Peter might have harried him into giving Lily another try, but there was no denying she looked very appealing. She was lying on her stomach on the sofa, wearing a dark green sweater that looked marvellous against her hair, and was very pretty for all that she was scowling slightly at the book she read. As James approached she glanced up, her expression changing to surprise. "Hello," she said, sitting up properly and laying the book down. 

James glanced at the book; Ancient Charmes in Ancient Tongues was inscribed in gold letters on spine. "I don't remember that being assigned to us in class," he said, by way of an opening. 

Lily glared at the book again. "It wasn't. Professor Flitwick loaned it to me, to help with a project I'm working on. So far it's much more a hindrance than a help." 

James grinned. "Is it as dreadful as it looks?" 

She smiled back. "Worse. It could be written in Greek for all the sense it makes, just listen to this..." She picked up the book and thumbed through the pages, then read, "_Do you raise thine wande into the aire, and intonne: 'Brogovi sunt macresculi momi rasti strugitant!' while turneing it widdershins thrice. After the third circle be compleate--_" 

James winced; he could see the misbegotten spelling as clearly as if it were written in the air. "Stop, stop, it hurts my ears just to listen." 

She shut the book. "Oh, it gets better, the whole book's like that. I'm tempted to use a translation charm on it; whatever this language is, it can't be English." 

"Definitely not. What's that spell supposed to do?" he asked, sitting down on the floor next to the couch. 

"I don't know; I haven't deciphered that part yet." 

James chuckled. "Well, at least you'll have time to work on it over the holidays. How are you spending them?" 

"I don't know," she admitted. "I'd thought of going home, but I don't really want to deal with my horrible sister." 

"Is she really that bad?" 

"A nightmare. She's the most Mugglish Muggle there could be." Lily smiled, as though to say this didn't bother her. "We didn't get along even before I came to Hogwarts; now that I'm studying magic, she thinks I'm the worst sort of freak. She alternates between calling me names and refusing to speak to me, and lives in constant fear of her friends finding out I'm a witch. I can handle that for a while, but we share a bedroom when we're both home, and it gets a bit tiring." 

"I can imagine," James said sympathetically. "Why not stay here then? Hogwarts is fun at Christmas." 

Lily shrugged. "I might. But most of my friends will be away, so I won't have much to do here. And my parents would like it if I went home." 

James had been trying to direct the conversation without being painfully obvious about it, but this was too much of an opening to resist. "There's stuff to do at Hogwarts. The Christmas Feast is good, and there's always something going on in Hogsmeade. You could go to that dance McGonagall was telling us about." He took a deep breath and plunged in. "I'll be here. You could go with me, even." 

Lily stared down at him, her eyes narrowing. "You're asking me to the Hogsmeade Midwinter Dance? After what I said in the library, back in November?" 

James shrugged. "Well, yes." 

"No." She eyed him coolly and crossed her arms over her chest. "You think I don't know why you're asking? I must be the only girl in school who's ever turned you down. You see me as a challenge." 

"That's not it!" he retorted, indignant and a little hurt. Did she really think that was the only reason he was interested in her? After all those weeks he'd spent staring at her across the Great Hall? Not that he'd ever admit to that, of course, but still...it stung to think that she'd have such a low opinion of him. 

Lily looked skeptical. "No?" 

"I won't deny that you're a challenge," James allowed, trying to pick his words carefully. "I can't figure you out. You're intelligent and witty and extremely pretty--" 

"Flattery won't get you anywhere." 

"--but you don't seem to be involved with anyone," he continued without pause. "You're honest, but you were perfectly willing to lie to a teacher in order to keep me out of trouble. You're friendly to me so long as I don't show any interest in you, and then almost insulted when I do. I don't get you at all." 

"I really don't see what's so difficult," Lily said mildly. "I don't dislike you; I told you that before. I'm just not very impressed by you. And I certainly am not going to go to a dance with you just because you've decided you're tried of the James Potter fan club." 

James sighed and leaned forward, meeting her eyes squarely and throwing caution to the wind. He might have been prodded into this, but he _did_ like Lily, and he _did_ want her to go to the dance with him, and most particularly he wanted her to believe that he wasn't stuck-up. Now was not the time for half-arsed gestures. "Look, Lily," he said firmly, "in case you hadn't gathered, I like you. I like you a lot. I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend. I'm not asking you to join the bloody James Potter fan club, if there really is such a thing. I'm not even asking you to like me, much less be impressed. I'm asking if you'd be willing to go to the dance with me, and I'm asking because I think it would be fun and I'd really like to go with you. That's it." 

Lily's gaze measured him for along time. "And why should I believe you're serious?" she said finally. "For all I know, this could be part of a particularly elaborate prank on your part. I wouldn't be at all surprised." 

"Did you miss the bit where I said you were intelligent and honest and extremely pretty?" 

"Mm," she said in a noncommittal tone. 

He threw his hands up in the air. "What does it take to convince you?" 

"I doubt you can." 

"You can't deny I'm trying. Come on, Lily," he said in his most coaxing voice. "Give me a chance." 

The pretty redhead eyed him musingly for a long time. "All right," she said finally. 

James' heart leapt despite himself. "You'll come?" 

Her eyes twinkled. "No, I'll give you a chance. Professor McGonagall will be passing around the sign-up sheet for students who want to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays in a week, so you have until then to convince me of your sincerity. Otherwise I'll go home as I'd planned, and you'll have to find another girl to con into going to the dance with you." 

James blinked. This was definitely not something he'd expected. "A week?" 

"Yes." Lily gathered up her book and stood, smiling at him. "One week to convince me. Then we'll see." With that as her final word, she walked across the common room to the stairs that led to the girls' dormitories. 

James watched her go, slightly confused; once she was out of sight, he took her spot on the sofa and stared into the fireplace, trying to puzzle out what had just happened. A week to convince her? What was that supposed to mean? He scowled, glaring at the flames as though they were the source of all his troubles. She'd accused him of seeing her as nothing but a challenge, and then deliberately _set_ a challenge, and what was the point of that? If she didn't want to go with him to the dance, why not just say so? And if she did, why make him work for it? 

His scowl deepened. She wanted him to _chase_ her! 

The idea was, initially, humiliating. He was James Potter! He didn't need to chase anyone! He damned well didn't have a fan club, but it was true that most of the girls in school would be happy--ecstatic!--to go out with him. So why should he waste his time on someone who didn't have the sense to say straight out whether or not she liked him? 

James groaned and ran a hand through his hair, already knowing the answer. Most of the girls in school would only be interested in him because he was a Quidditch player. It had never bothered him before; but then, he'd never really been interested in any girl before, not like this. They were pretty, they were fun, they stoked his ego...but at the end of the day, girls were just another game to him. 

And he already knew Lily was something else. 

James' mind went racing. How was he supposed to convince her to give him a chance? What did he know about impressing girls? Usually they were impressed without any effort on his part; he'd never had to work at it before. Between Quidditch, his good looks, and his good grades, he had their attention without even trying. But Lily was clearly unimpressed by his dating record, his intelligence wouldn't help much against a girl as smart or smarter than he was, looks didn't seem to be a key factor, and as for Quidditch... 

Suddenly everything snapped into focus--so clearly and simply that he nearly burst out laughing. Lily wanted him to chase her? Fine. He would. And furthermore, he'd catch her. This _was_ just another game, even if the stakes were higher than usual. 

And James Potter was very good at winning. 

He considered. Goal: Lily as a date for the Midwinter dance. Rules: none. He grinned, realizing that she hadn't set any restrictions in that respect. Difficulties: a time limit, possible competition from other prospective dates, and a complete inability to read his opponent's intentions. Advantages: no rules, the guarantee that she wouldn't make up her mind for a week, and he had her attention. 

James stood and walked towards the Fat Lady's portrait while mapping out his strategy, well pleased with himself. It was time for Lily Evans to learn what being a Chaser _really_ meant. 

And the first step was to gather together his team. 

* * *

"Brogovi sunt macresculi momi rasti strugitant" is a Latinized version of the lines "All mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe." This is taken from Lewis Carroll's poem _Jabberwocky_; I found the Latin at . To those who've seen this chapter before and are wondering what happened to the phrase I was using originally, I found a better place for it in the story; sorry 'bout that, but it'll be back, and it was just wasted on this scene. *gryn* 

It lives! It lives! Chapter six is resurrected from the dead! Man, what a relief. Thanks very much for your patience & support, minna-san, it's meant the world. =) 

You might be interested to know that I now have a mailing list, for all my HP-related fanfiction updates and most particularly for YoC ones. Numerous people have asked me to email them when I get new chapters out, and frankly, remembering them all is beyond me, so this seemed the best solution. So if you like, join up. List members will likely see new chapters before they're posted here or ff.net, and even before they're up on my webpage, if that appeals to you. Said mailing list can be found at Yahoo under the name "jamescentric". Hope to see you there. =) (sorry, ff.net won't let me direct link for some obnoxious reason) 

ashfae@technicaldetails.org   



	7. Chapter Seven

This fic was started before the release of Order of the Phoenix, and while I was originally trying to stay true to canon, it's no longer possible. Bah. Where I can be true to canon I will, but there are some differences. Still, I prefer to categorize the fic as **Pre-OotP** rather than as an AU. at any rate, you have been warned. 

* * *

"Fellow Marauders, we meet tonight to address a serious topic." 

Sirius' voice was grave. James stifled a laugh and leaned back, resigned to hearing his love life ripped to pieces by his friends. He'd caught up to Remus and the others quickly after his meeting with Lily to tell them what had happened. The immediate decision was to hold one of their midnight outings to discuss the subject in full and in private, which was how the four of them came to be sitting in their cave by the lake, in the middle of the night, with enough food and drink to stock an army. James let himself grin at that analogy; it was entirely appropriate, since they were meeting to discuss battle plans. 

Sirius continued in the same pompous voice, playing Chairman to the hilt. "The subject under consideration is one Lily Evans. Our own Master Prongs has expressed an interest in the lady and requests our aid in securing her affections. More immediately, he wishes to convince her to partner him to the Hogsmeade Midwinter Dance." 

"Hear, hear!" Remus called, while Peter hooted. The Chairman waved them silent with a dramatic gesture. 

"However!" Sirius continued solemnly. "Before any assistance may be offered, we must be certain that the target is fully deserving of attention. What is known about this individual?" 

"A keen poker player," James called out, making the point Sirius himself had made in Lily's favour, earlier in the day. 

Sirius flashed a grin at him. "What else?" 

"Smart as a whip and one of the prettiest girls in school," Remus volunteered. 

Sirius acknowledged this with a nod. "So, Miss Evans is clever, beautiful, and bluffs like a champion. Worthy qualities indeed, but are these things alone enough to make her worthy to companion a Marauder? Those paragons of pranksters? Those most eligible, worthy, and magnificent of men?" 

James muttered quietly to Remus. "I could've sworn we were four pillocks who don't get enough sleep." 

Peter spoke over Remus' stifled laughter. "Chairman Padfoot, I have a piece of information that may shed some light on the subject." 

"You may proceed, Doctor Wormtail." 

Peter stood to address the so-called court, hands behind his back. "I submit that Lily Evans is a person of excellent taste and judgement, in addition to her other sterling qualities." 

"And how do you support this statement?" Sirius asked sternly. 

"I personally overheard her call Severus Snape a greasy, noodle-brained nitwit," Peter declared. 

The four boys looked at each other. 

"Right," Sirius said, sitting down. "Such perception renders Miss Evans worthy of the best the Marauders have to offer. But I'll be off on holiday, so she'll have to settle for this twit." 

"Thanks _so_ much for the encouragement, Padfoot." 

"That's Chairman to you, Prongs." 

"Right," Peter said. "Let's see if we've got this straight. You have one week to convince Evans that you're genuinely smitten, does that sum it up?" 

"Pretty much, yes." 

"You _are_ genuinely smitten, I take it?" Remus asked. 

James shrugged, smiling a little sheepishly, and didn't answer. 

"But really, all this trouble just for a bird?" Peter said, taking a swig of butterbeer and eyeing James askance. "Are you sure she's worth it?" 

James raised an eyebrow. "I believe it was you lot that kept after me to ask her out again, wasn't it? So really, this mess can be blamed entirely upon you, and if things go wrong I'll be coming for your heads, or whatever other part of your anatomy is handy." He grinned suddenly. "But to answer your question, yes, I think she's worth it. How many girls do you know who can run verbal circles around Snape like she did?" 

Peter chuckled at the memory. "It was a sight worth seeing, no question. I don't think I've ever seen the greasy git look so furious." 

"Wish I'd been there," Sirius sighed. "Is it too late to offer her a medal, do you think?" 

"Attractive, intelligent, and hates Snape," Remus listed. "Evans does sound rather tailor-made for you, James." 

"Yes, and let's not forget her...sterling qualities," Sirius said solemnly. 

James lobbed a handy rock at Sirius. "I'll thank you to be respectful when talking about my future girlfriend, Padfoot. I am _not_ interested in Lily just for her body." 

"Nice try, Prongs, but we all know what a horny bastard you are," Sirius said lazily. This time everybody threw things at him, pelting him until he begged for mercy and muttered under his breath about finding a new meeting place that didn't involve rocks of any sort. 

"But back to business," James announced after the furor had died down. "I have one week to charm Lily into staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. I've got a few ideas about where to start, but I could use some more. Any brilliant notions?" 

"Actually charm her," Peter suggested. "Cast a Confundus Charm or a Cheering Charm or something, and then ask her while she's out of her head." 

"Definitely not," Remus said at once. "All charms like that wear off sooner or later, and she'd be furious when it did. To say nothing of what McGonagall would do if she got wind of it." 

"Exactly," James agreed. "Besides, what she actually said was that I should prove my sincerity--using spells to change her mind doesn't count. So what's the standard for showing a girl you like her?" 

Sirius began counting on his fingers. "Flowers, sweets, stuffed animals, anything cute and cuddly…" 

Peter choked on his butterbeer. After Remus had clapped him on the back a few times, he managed, "Sorry, sorry, it was just the idea of Gryffindor's star Chaser walking around with a toy diricrawl--" 

Sirius snickered. "Maybe you could find a stuffed deer to give her, James. Tell her to name it Prongs but don't tell her why." 

"This is all well and good," Remus said, hitting Peter on the back once more for good measure, "but I suspect it'll take more than flowers and sweets to get into Miss Evans' good graces." 

"What then?" James asked. 

Remus shrugged. "Who knows? Something unique, something only you'd come up with." 

"Such as?" 

"If I knew that, it wouldn't be something only you'd come up with!" 

James tossed a Bertie Botts Every Flavour Bean at Remus' head. "Helpful, Moony, really helpful." 

Remus lobbed a Bean back at James. "Well, you're the planner of the group. Come up with something." 

"I plan _pranks_, Moony. I outwit teachers and greasy-haired Slytherins. Girls are a different matter entirely." 

"So start with the traditional things and see how she takes them," Peter suggested. "If it doesn't work, you can come up with something else later. You've got a week, haven't you? That's loads of time. Pass the Pumpkin Pasties, won't you?" 

James couldn't find any flaws in that reasoning, and the meeting rapidly disintegrated into the usual jumble of prank-planning, Slytherin-bashing, and good-natured fighting over the sweets, followed by the usual scramble to sneak back into the Gryffindor dorms without being caught. 

The plan began simply enough. James snuck out of the castle early the next morning to run several errands in Hogsmeade. He missed breakfast and was half an hour late to History of Magic. This would have landed him in trouble if the class had been taught by anyone but Professor Binns, who was so busy lecturing about the origins of the Ministry of Magic that he didn't even notice James sneaking in. "I never thought I'd say this, but thank Merlin for Bore-of-the-Year Binns," James announced after class, once they were out of the classroom and on their way to the Greenhouse Eight for Herbology. Professor Binns' given name was Boromir, but Sirius had dubbed him Bore-of-the-Year back in their first term at Hogwarts, and the label had stuck. "I don't suppose there's any point in asking if I missed anything?" 

"No point at all," Peter said. "A lot of rubbish about Alastair Beaufolle and the disbanding of the old Wizard's Council. It's all in your textbook if you really want to know, Binns never tells us anything that isn't." 

"That's a relief," Sirius sighed. "I didn't hear any of it either." 

"Nor did I," Remus said wryly. "Sirius was snoring so loud I couldn't make out a thing. Did you have any luck, James?" 

James nodded. "Flowers in her dorm room, and the best box of chocolates Honeydukes' has to offer set to arrive by morning post." 

"Good plan," Sirius said approvingly. "There's not a girl alive that can resist chocolate. That covers flowers and sweets. What's next if they don't work?" 

"You'll find out when Lily does. Did she notice I was late to class, do you think?" 

Peter sniggered. "Not likely, if the way her head kept slipping off her elbow is any indication. I think Binns could put a dragon to sleep, the way he goes on and on. Was he that dull when he was alive, d'you think?" 

"Probably," Sirius said, in tones of utmost disgust; History of Magic was his least favourite class. "All history teachers are dull as spoons; I think it must be part of the job requirement." 

James let loose a huge yawn, wishing he'd had a chance to nap in Binns' class himself; between the meeting last night and sneaking into Hogsmeade that morning, he was short on sleep. It was lucky there wasn't a Quidditch practice scheduled for today, or he'd fall asleep on his broom. Kit had once joked that James was such a good Chaser he could score goals while asleep, but James wasn't keen to try it. "I hope we're doing something really boring in Herbology today," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I'm dead on my feet." 

"No such luck, I'm afraid," Remus said ruefully. "We're collecting weaselweed pollen; I heard it from one of the Hufflepuffs. If half the rumours are true, we'll be chasing them all over the greenhouse." 

"Just what I need," James groaned. 

"Don't worry, James." Sirius grinned. "If you die of a nasty weaselweed bite, we'll be sure to tell Lily Evans that your last thoughts were of her." 

James meant to tell Sirius to sod off, but only got as far as "So--" before he was interrupted by another yawn. 

The rest of the day seemed to pass quickly, because James was half-asleep (and sometimes more than half) for most of it. Fortunately, he managed to escape being bitten by any of the weaselweeds in spite of this. Sirius was not so lucky; one of the weaselweeds spat a large amount of pollen directly into his face, and he was sent to the hospital wing to be treated for mild poisoning. He rejoined them in the Great Hall for dinner, wearing a sulky expression. "Sodding weaselweeds," he growled, taking a seat next to James. "Madam Pomfrey says I won't be able to taste anything properly for _two days_. And we're having chicken tonight, too. Life is _distinctly_ unfair." 

"Didn't anyone tell you, Sirius?" Peter said, pointing a drumstick towars him. "It's 'Be Cruel To Sirius' Day. We all decided this morning." 

"Oh it is, is it?" 

"Yes indeed. Official holiday and all that. We're even writing a letter to Parliament, to get it declared nationally. Pass the potatoes, won't you?" 

It was only the timely intervention of Remus, who grabbed Sirius' arm at the last minute, that spared Peter from having the mashed potatoes dumped on his head. A small-scale food fight immediately ensued; but for once, James was uninvolved. He was glancing down the Gryffindor table, trying to catch Lily Evans' eye. She _must_ have found the bouquet of flowers by this point. He'd left them attached to the sixth-year girls' door, along with a small card with "Lily" written in gold letters; he hadn't had time to sneak into the dorm itself and determine which bunk was hers. 

But to his disappointment, Lily didn't so much as look at him through the entire meal, though she was sitting nearby; she was so absorbed in her conversation with Demeter Demaris and Cassie Tenax that she didn't seem to notice him. James frowned; this wouldn't do at all. 

It wasn't until after dinner that he was able to catch up with her; Demeter and Cassie had walked off towards the library, and Lily was heading back towards the Gryffindor Common Room. James told Sirius, Remus, and Peter to sod off for a minute and followed her. Somewhat to his relief, she turned as soon as he called her name, and followed when he gestured to a less crowded corridor. James had intended to start by saying something clever or flattering, but somehow the question that was actually on his mind slipped out before he could manage it. "Did you get them?" 

"The flowers? Yes, this morning," Lily answered, smiling. "But really, James…lilies?" 

"It seemed appropriate," he said, a bit stung. "Besides, they're nice, aren't they?" 

"Oh, very nice," she said pertly. "Not very creative, but nice." 

"I wasn't aiming for creative this time, just nice," James protested. "Was it at least a good start?" 

She shrugged. "That depends on how you follow up." 

"You certainly are hard to please; most girls would be delighted by a bouquet like that." 

"Well, I'm not like most girls then." 

"Yes, I'd sussed that. What does it take to get on your good side?" 

"Something more than realizing I'm named after a flower, I'm afraid; do you really think you're the first person to notice?" Lily's smile turned into a grin. "Traditional is another word for lazy in romance as well as in playing pranks." With that she turned and walked off, and James had no choice but to find his own friends and reassess his strategy. 

Sirius, Remus, and Peter could hardly fail to notice James' gloomy expression, and had this latest development out of him in minutes. After five minutes of protesting Lily's ingratitude, admitting that she had a point (_"Why didn't you get roses instead?" "Still too predictable." "Dandelions then. You should have gotten dandelions."_), and generally stating that all girls were mad anyway, it was Sirius who brought up the real question: "Well, what now?" 

James drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "Well, she gets the chocolates tomorrow morning; she'll probably think they're uncreative too, but it's too late to do anything about it. So I need to think of something unusual for after that." 

"You could always give the chocolates to us instead," Peter offered hopefully. "_We_ appreciate Honeydukes' finest more than she will." 

"Get your own sodding sweets, Wormtail." 

"Spell out both your names in fireworks in the Great Hall," Remus suggested, returning to the matter at hand. "Flashy, effective, and it makes a lasting impression. Of course, you'd have to endure the teasing from everyone in school for the rest of the year--" 

"I'm getting more than enough from you lot already!" 

Remus continued as though no one else had spoken. "--but love's worth a few sacrifices, don't you think?" 

"I don't think she'd appreciate me making it that obvious it's me who's after her, though," James mused. "I bet she'd think it was conceited, you know. Like I was bragging about having a flame for her. She already thinks I'm big-headed, and the last thing I want to do is give her reasons for it." 

"You _are_ big-headed!" Peter said, laughing. "Wasn't it you that wrote 'Quidditch God' above your bed after you made the team back in third year?" 

James shrugged, grinning. "Well, make sure Lily doesn't find that out, then. Anyway, I don't want the whole school in on this. They'd just get in the way." 

"So, find something that's obviously meant to get her attention, something she'll know you did, but that nobody else can trace back to you," Peter said lazily. "Should be easy, we do that sort of thing all the time." 

"Everyone knows it's us pulling those pranks, though," Remus pointed out. 

"Everyone _thinks_ it's us pulling those pranks, Moony m'boy," Sirius said loftily. "But no one can prove a thing, and we admit nothing. Not officially, anyway." 

"That's a thought," James said slowly. "What have we gotten away with in the past?" 

Sirius began counting off on his fingers. "Dyeing the Quidditch pitch blue, poisoning Snape about a hundred times, scaring the life out of half of Hogsmeade 'cause they thought I was a Grim--" 

"Don't forget the time we jinxed all the chairs at the Head Table so the professors kept slipping out of them," Peter said. "I liked that one. So did Flitwick, as I remember; he kept getting back in his seat for another go." 

"Or the time we hexed the mirrors on the first floor to whistle whenever a pretty girl walked by," Sirius remembered fondly. "Paulina Prismon just about went spare trying to figure out who was doing it." 

"Or when we put that Slippery Solution all over the floors in the dungeon, and so that everyone had to skate to Potions on brushes until they got rid of it." Remus laughed. "Or--" 

James was thinking very fast; he had the beginnings of an idea. "Sirius, could you sneak down to the kitchens tonight and ask the house elves to do me a favour?" 

"That's a nice thing to ask a man who can't taste anything," Sirius said reproachfully. 

"So stock up on things to eat after that pollen's worn off while you're there. I need you to ask the house elves to do something for me." 

Sirius shrugged. "Anything for a mate, I suppose. But what makes you think they'll help?" 

James waved a hand. "You know house elves, they're all romantics, they'll love it. That'll be easy to set up. Remus, Peter, could you help me with something else? We'll have to sneak out to the grounds, but that's never hard." 

"What? Why us?" Peter asked. 

"And why not me?" Sirius protested, indignant. 

"Because I need Remus' skill with tricky charms and Peter's skill with measuring things out properly. And because you have a date in the kitchens, or had you forgotten?" 

"So? Whoever said I was only allowed to do one bit of mischief a night?" 

"This'll take more than one night, Sirius; you can come along tomorrow for moral support. Tonight, stick to the kitchens." 

"What's your plan, James?" Remus wanted to know. 

James grinned. "I'll tell you tonight. We'll need to sneak out at about midnight; this will take a while to set up, which is why I want to do it in two nights. The usual drill; if Peter goes rat, the three of us should fit under the Invisibility Cloak enough to avoid attention." 

"I haven't agreed to anything yet," Peter protested. "Maybe you can blow off revising and hare about at all hours of the day or night and still get good grades, Prongs, but the rest of us aren't so lucky. The only classes I'm not behind in are Arithmancy and Astronomy, and arsed if I know what I'm going to do about the others." 

"What are you so worried about, Wormtail?" Sirius asked. "It's almost the holidays, you won't have any trouble catching up then." 

Peter glared at him. "Maybe that was true before, but not lately; the teachers are giving us all a load of new homework for Christmas. And we take the N.E.W.T.'s next year." 

"That's next year, though. Ages and ages away." 

"Tell it to McGonagall." 

James leaned forward. "Look Peter, help me out for the next few nights and I swear I'll help you with your Transfiguration homework. Fair enough? Only you've got to help me with Astronomy; if Professor Ophiuchus gives us any more star charts to memorise, I'll be swimming in them." 

Peter brightened at this. "All right, just promise that we won't be out all night; we have Care of Magical Creatures tomorrow morning, and Kettleburn said if I fell asleep in class again he'd feed me to a manticore." 

*

The rest of the week found the students, staff, and generally everyone who happened to be in the area of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in a more or less continual state of astonishment. The first odd thing to happen took place at breakfast the next morning: when Lily Evans sat down at the Gryffindor table, a small white cake appeared in front of her. It was decorated with red and gold frosting, and had a large "L' written in the centre. All the Gryffindor girls present at the cake's appearance spent the rest of the meal wondering who was responsible. Lily only shrugged and said it was probably poisoned, though that didn't stop her from ignoring that morning's porridge in favour of the cake, which she shared with her friends Demeter and Cassie. One second-year giggled that Lily must have an admirer, but aside from some teasing about a smitten house-elf no one paid much attention to this. 

The rumour gained more credence in Gryffindor House on Thursday afternoon, when Lily entered her dorm to find her bunk covered with an assortment of fireflowers, smokeblossoms, and sparkweed, all specially enchanted not to set fire to the bed. The other sixth-year girls were amazed, not least because entering the girls' dorms involved getting past a number of tricky charms. Lily pursed her lips, but gathered the flowers together neatly and kept them by her bedside until Demeter, who had the next bed, complained that the fireflowers gave off too much light for her to sleep, whereupon Lily moved them to the common room. 

The whole school was convinced that Lily Evans was being courted when a gigantic box of Honeydukes' best chocolates was set before her at breakfast on Friday morning. The box was so large and heavy that two owls were required to manage it. Lily was immediately mobbed with questions, suggestions, and requests to share; but while she was more than willing to give away some of her present, she was not so forthcoming with guesses as to who had sent it. 

But the real surprise came on Saturday during the Hufflepuff-Slytherin match, when the whole school trudged up to the Quidditch pitch to find that some unknown person or persons had written the words "Will you come to the dance with me?" on the Quidditch pitch in giant shining red letters. As if that weren't enough, at random intervals the players' brooms would emit coloured smoke, which spelled the words "Midwinter Dance, December 22nd." Several time-outs were called, but neither team was willing to forfeit the match to discover what was going on, so the players managed as best they could. 

"Brilliant plan, James," Sirius said fondly. "Particularly the bit with the brooms." 

"Yes, and isn't it lovely how the Slytherins are so unnerved that they keep missing their shots?" James grinned. "Nice side benefit, that; they've been neck and neck for points with Gryffindor for the Cup until now." 

"Now there's a born Quidditch player for you," Remus said to Peter, rolling his eyes. "Even when he's not on the field he finds a way to sabotage his opponents." 

James glanced at Remus with mock-disapproval. "Now really Moony, don't you want Gryffindor to win the Cup? Where's your team spirit?" He looked back towards the field, where the Hufflepuff team (who were less easily distracted than the Slytherins) had just scored their fifth goal. "I do like a plan that accomplishes several goals at once. I get Lily's attention and stymie the Slytherins all in one goal; what could be better?" 

"I dunno," Peter drawled. "I rather like the way we're just sitting here, innocent as lambs, with all that chaos going on. I love getting away with things. Think Lily's guessed it's for her?" 

Sirius looked back over his shoulder. "If the way she's got her head in her hands means anything, yep." 

James stretched his arms above his head and watched with pleasure as a Hufflepuff broom emitted the word "--dance" in purple smoke just after the Chaser riding it scored another goal. "Serves her right for daring me to be creative." He smirked. "She's just lucky I don't have them spelling her name; that was the original plan, but I thought it'd be too much." 

"Doesn't seem to have helped," Remus said. "Everyone knows it's meant for her. The Gryffindors do, anyway." 

James shrugged. "Well, she could've just said 'yes' and saved herself all the attention." 

"Just so, mate," Sirius approved. 

James spent the rest of Saturday afternoon thoroughly pleased with himself, not least because Hufflepuff slaughtered Slytherin at two-hundred thirty points to forty. He'd managed flowers, chocolates, and a public demonstration. His week of trial was almost over, but he wasn't worried; surely, even Lily Evans would be convinced that he was serious by now. He wondered if it would be better to track her down and get details about the dance, or to let her come to him. 

The question was taken out of his hands on Saturday evening, when Lily cornered him by the stairs up to the second floor after dinner. "Not exactly subtle, are you?" was all she said as greeting. 

James grinned. "You told me to be convincing." 

"I told you to be sincere, not flashy." 

"Who says I can't do both? You never said how I was supposed to go about it, aside from being creative." 

She smiled. "That bit today certainly was unexpected, I'll give you that. How did you bewitch those brooms? They're kept locked up before games." 

James tried not to look too smug. "My lips are sealed," he said. Peter had gone rat, snuck into the Quidditch shed, and opened the door from inside, which neatly bypassed all the alarms. "But you still haven't answered my question. Will you go to the dance with me or not?" 

Lily shrugged, raising her eyebrow in that gesture he was starting to find very familiar. "I haven't decided yet." 

"_What?_" James was incredulous. "Merlin's Beard, Lily, what does it take to convince you? Should I throw myself off the roof of the Great Hall or something?" 

"Certainly not." Her eyes twinkled. "Gryffindor's got a nice shot at the Quidditch Cup after today. If I do anything to harm the team's star Chaser, Kit will come for my head." 

James smiled a bit despite himself; Kit could be _very_ vengeful whenever he thought one of his team-mates was being mistreated. "I could threaten to tell him you're breaking my heart; he'd come after you for that, too." 

Lily tossed her head. "You barely know me, and I find it hard to believe your heart would break just because I refused to go to one little, trifling dance with you." 

"It's not that you won't go, it's that you haven't given me an answer one way or the other," James grumbled. "And if it's such a little, trifling dance, why _not_ go with me? Where's the harm?" 

"Well, what if I get another offer?" 

"Then I'll make a better one." 

"You make me sound like some sort of prize in an auction house." 

"You're the one who's turned this into a contest, and Merlin knows I'm running myself ragged trying to win it." James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, not caring that this would make it stick up even more than it usually did. "I said it before, Lily; I like you, and I'd like to go to the dance with you. Is that sincere enough for you, or _should_ I go throw myself off the Great Hall?" 

He thought he saw a sympathetic expression flash across her face, but probably he only imagined it, because her next words were just as discouraging. "I hardly think the situation's _that_ drastic. And I have one more day left to make up my mind, you'll remember. So you still have twenty-four hours more or less to convince me to come with you." She smiled, a bit wryly. "I'm not sure how you _could_ top that display down at the Quidditch pitch, but seeing as it's you I'm sure you'll come up with something." 

And with that she left. 

James mused over the conversation that had just occurred and found that he wasn't as disheartened as he expected. Lily might say she was unimpressed, but she still hadn't turned him down, and she _had_ kept the fireflower assortment he'd left for her. That was a good sign, wasn't it? But there was no denying the situation was getting more and more ridiculous. If the girl wanted to go to the dance with him, she could just say so instead of testing him like this. Still, he wasn't about to give up just because things seemed difficult; he wasn't through by a long shot. 

The problem was...he was out of ideas. 

*

"I never thought I'd hear James Potter admit he was out of ideas," Remus said with open astonishment."Hell must have frozen over. Was Filch elected Minister of Magic while I wasn't paying attention?" 

"Well, not _completely_ out of ideas," James defended. "I thought of clubbing her on the head and hauling her off to the dance by her hair, but somehow I don't think she'd fancy the Neandertal approach." 

"Probably not the best way to earn her affection, no." 

"James, you idiot, couldn't you have fallen for someone who actually _liked_ you?" Peter groaned. 

"I think she does like me," James said reflectively. "She's just being stubborn." 

"Not at all like you, of course." Remus laughed. "I'll be a bit sorry if she gives in. Watching the two of you try to out-stubborn each other is the best entertainment I've had in months." 

James ignored this. "I've tried charm, wit, and romance--to say nothing of flowers, chocolate, and flashy displays--and so far nothing has had any effect," he mused. "What's left?" 

Peter grinned. "Go down on your knees and beg." 

"In your dreams, Wormtail." 

Sirius let out an exaggerated sigh. "I am surrounded by nitwits." 

All eyes immediately turned to the fourth member of the quartet, as he had clearly intended. "Nitwits, are we," Remus growled. 

James swallowed his irritation. "Right then. If you're so clever, tell me what to do next." 

Sirius leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. "Nothing, and I do mean _nothing_, makes an impression on a girl like--" He paused for effect. "--persistence." 

Remus snorted. "He's only got one day left, dolt. He's done nothing but follow her around for the past week--longer than that, if you count those weeks of staring at her across the table in the main hall. How much more persistent can he get?" 

Sirius flashed them a smug grin. "You misunderstand, my dear Moony. If you can't impress a girl with your sincerity, there's only one other way to go. You've tried being nice, Prongs. Now it's time to get nasty." 

James blinked. Then an echoing grin slowly spread across his face. 

*

"_I'm Henry the Eighth I am, Henry the Eighth I am I am…_" 

James didn't sing very well. For once, this was an advantage. 

"_I got married to the widow next door…_" 

Lily growled, flipping the pages of her book in obvious irritation. 

"_She's been married seven times before…_" 

James was particularly enjoying his latest plan of attack. It involved a classic Marauder tactic: if you can't beat them, annoy the hell out of them. Chosen weapons: his own out-of-tune singing, an impossibly irritating song, the invisibility cloak, and a difficult Transfiguration assignment. He sang just loudly enough to distract Lily from her revising, but not loudly enough for anyone else to realise there was someone with her; he was safely concealed under his invisibility cloak. So far he'd followed her into the Gryffindor common room, the main hall, and even one of the girl's bathrooms. In desperation she'd run to the quiet and ever-populated library, but he followed her there as well, singing quietly all the while. It wasn't the most romantic of plans, but it was having the desired effect; Lily was obviously nearing her wits' end. "Do you _mind_?" she hissed loudly. 

James stopped singing to answer. "Not at all," he whispered. "I can go on for hours, you know. Is there anything in particular you'd like to hear? I know the first two verses of the latest hit by the Hobgoblins." 

"I'd like to hear you drop dead! I have to _study_, James! Go _away_!" 

"Sorry, no can do." 

She glared into empty space, about a foot away from where James was actually standing. "You're not helping your case, you know; this just makes going home seem appealing. At first I was welcoming an excuse to avoid my sister, but now I think she might be the lesser evil." 

"I bet she's not nearly as charming as I am, though." 

"At the moment you're about as charming as the Whomping Willow." 

"Well, and whose fault is that? I tried being nice, and it didn't get me anywhere. Obviously the best idea was to change tactics." 

Lily covered her face with her hands. "I should've admitted I liked the fireflowers," she said, her voice muffled. "And the thing on the Quidditch pitch was flattering too, even if it was far more showy than anything I expected you to do." 

"Clearly you underestimated me." 

"Clearly." 

"At least you know I _can_ be nice." 

"If you were nice, you'd _stop singing and leave me alone!_" 

"Not until you say you'll go to the dance with me." 

"I should just say no, go home for Christmas, and never speak to you again. At this rate I'll fail Transfiguration because of you." 

James glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then whipped off the invisibility cloak. As Lily jumped in surprise, he sat down across the table from her. "Going home for Christmas might keep you safe for a few weeks, but what about when you get back?" 

She paled. "You're not serious." 

"Oh, entirely. Just think of it: me, popping up whenever you least expect it, singing constantly whenever you try to study, and nothing you can do about it because no one else will be able to see me…" 

Lily eyed him with a level gaze. "Let me get this straight. I should go on a date with you, because if I don't, you'll stalk me?" 

"Until you've been driven absolutely barking mad, yep." 

She leaned forward. "And what's to keep me from complaining to one of the teachers? Or telling Filch about that cloak of yours? I imagine he'd find it very interesting to know who's responsible for all the pranks that have been played this year." 

James was unintimidated. "First, you won't tell Filch about the cloak because you said you wouldn't, and no matter what you think of me, you keep your promises. Second, if you tell any of the teachers, I'll just find some other way to pester you. I'm sure Sirius and Remus and Peter would be only too delighted to help, and even Dumbledore can't keep an eye on all four of us all of the time. Third, if you alienate me, who'd help you finish your Transfiguration assignment?" He flashed her what he hoped was a charming grin. "Is going to one little dance with me so terrible a thing, in comparison?" 

She grinned back. "You're impossible." 

"So I'm often told." 

"If I accept your invitation and stay for the holidays and go to the bloody dance with you, then you'll stop pestering me like this?" 

"Maybe." His grin grew wider. 

Lily shook her head in mock resignation. "At the very least, instead of pestering me now, you'll make yourself useful by helping me with all the Transfiguration homework I haven't been able to do because of you?" 

"Absolutely." 

"I have one more condition." 

"Name it." 

She leaned forward. "You are never, ever, ever to sing around me again." 

James laughed. "Deal." 

Lily leaned back, crossing her arms. "All right. I'll stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, and I'll go to this dance with you. But Merlin be my witness, if you don't show me a good time, I'll hex you so badly you won't be able to sit down for a week." 

"That's fair," James agreed, grinning. "Now, how far had you gotten with the homework before you were so rudely interrupted?" 

Lily made a sound that was halfway between a groan and a laugh, and pushed the Transfiguration text towards him. 

* * *

Bwaha. Bwhahahahaha. Don't think the chasing is over just because she's going to the dance, mateys; we're far from finished. It's not over until they're a couple, after all, and one dance does not a relationship make. 

And now for some notes. Ahem: 

JKR has never specified a first name for Professor Binns. I decided that it should be Boromir. I decided this entirely so that I could then nickname him Bore-of-the-Year Binns. 

Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them describes a diricrawl as a bird that disappears at will and reappears somewhere else in order to escape danger. The idea of a toy diricrawl amuses me utterly, though I bet it'd drive parents to distraction, as they'd never stay where you left them! 

The idea of James going invisible and singing "Henry the Eighth" in order to annoy Lily into doing what he wanted was inspired by a similar scene from the 80s movie _Ghost_. Great scene. And it was such a Jamesish thing to do, I couldn't resist. Thanks to **Spookykat** for informing me that "Henry the Eighth" was popularized by a British group back in the 60s and thus it'd be entirely likely that James would know it. 

The mention of Alastair Beaufolle and the Wizard's Council is a tip of the hat towards Ariana Deralte's absolutely smashing Uric the Oddball fics, which everyone in HP fandom should be forced to read. I'm going to marry Uric, by the way. 

My anthropologist friend Allison has informed me that Neanderthal should actually be spelled Neandertal, but nobody outside of the anthropology profession ever gets it right. I bow to her superior knowledge of the subject, as she's the one who spends her days measuring monkey skulls. 

As I have mentioned before: there is a very definite reason why the Marauders call themselves the Marauders (though you'll note they only do so when they're in their hideout). I don't use the name because of the "Marauder's Map" (the grammar of which only indicates a map to be used by one would-be marauder), but because I like the name. I have a story for how the name came about, and one day I will tell it. 'Til then, those of you who can't stand the term Marauders (*coughWeavescough*) will just have to put up with it. Least I don't overdo things, ne? *gryn* 

As a small point, in my fic Peter is a halfblood, and would be just as likely to consider writing Parliament as the Ministry. Trust me when I tell you that he'd be more likely to say Parliament, though to explain why would take more time/space than these author's notes merit. 

A number of people have asked me to email them when new chapters are completed. Frankly, so many people have asked that I cannot possibly keep track it all. This is why I created the Jamescentric Mailing List. All updates, as well as numerous other things, will be posted to the ML before anywhere else. If you join up and set your Email Preferences to "Special Notices," it'll be just as if I were emailing you personally to tell you about a chapter update. 

Be warned: I'm about to move to Scotland and start grad school (yeehah!), so it may be a while before there's a new chapter. 

ashfae@technicaldetails.org   
www.ashfae.net 


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